Lost In An Abyss Of Memories
by hachoo
Summary: Dean wakes up injured with no memory of the past 2 days. Is it merely a coincidence that there is a coven of witches in town? Sam and Dean don’t think so. Can the two brothers stop the coven before they plan something even worse for Dean? Hurt!Dean
1. Chapter 1

A/N- So, this is my first attempt at an actual story, not just a bunch of one shots. I'm quite excited, although I'm not exactly sure what my plan with this is. Hopefully, it'll just come to me. I have no idea how long this is going to be or whatnot. Anyway, I hope this first chapter interests you guys, and please please _please_ review so I know whether or not to continue this or not!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except… actually, I own nothing.

**Lost In An Abyss Of Memories**

**Chapter 1**

Cold.

That was the first thought that registered in Dean's mind. It was goddam freezing.

Eyes still closed, Dean began to move his body. He was lying down on some kind of floor that was hard, pressing into Dean's back. His throat was sore, possibly from breathing in the freezing air. His body, his feet, his limbs; they were all numb. Dean began to force his eyes open, trying to see where he was. The last thing he remembered was going outside to grab something from the impala, then… nothing.

The first thing Dean saw when he opened his eyes was his own breath, a white cloud hovering in the air above him. Struggling to sit up, Dean pressed his palms against the floor, and realised it was concrete, or to be more specific, pavement. Glancing around revealed a very strange fact; he was lying down on a footpath. _But how did I get here_, Dean wondered silently. He didn't recognise his surroundings, or any of the houses, which meant he wasn't near any of the areas they had been investigating the past few days. A thought dawned on Dean suddenly. _Where's Sammy?_

Dean rose to his feet slowly, his body aching for unknown reasons. His tongue flicked out to lick his dry lips, and then winced; his lips were freezing, and the sudden warmth actually hurt. From where he was standing, Dean could see a street of houses in front of him, and the same behind. He looked for any street signs, but there were none nearby. Cursing, Dean began to walk up the street, trying to find a clue as to where he was. As he walked, he realised just how sore his muscles were, and also registered a sharp pain on his right side. He glanced down at it and was startled to see blood. _I don't remember getting hurt_, Dean thought slowly. He continued walking, getting more and more paranoid and uncertain. _What the hell happened to me_, Dean questioned silently. He suddenly let out a gasp and dropped to his knees as the pain in his side increased dramatically. Looking down, he saw the bloodstain was spreading. Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do, before he mentally hit himself. Cell phone!

Still berating himself, Dean's hand fumbled around in his pocket until he located his phone. He flipped it open, and was startled to see the date. _20__th__? But it was the 18__th__ before… _Dean's mind began to grow hazy from confusion and pain. _Sammy. Gotta call Sammy. _Fingers trembling now, Dean went to contacts and started to scroll down when his phone began to ring in his hands. The ID said 'Sam'. Pressing the answer button, Dean brought the phone to his ear.

"Sammy?"

"Dean? Dean?!" Sam's voice started to go higher. "Where the hell have you been, I've been calling you for the past two days!" Dean was slightly surprised to hear the pure panic in Sam's voice.

"Sammy, I-"

"Are you with a girl? Couldn't you at least have the decency to tell me you were going to be gone for _2 freaking days_ before you disappear?"

"Sammy-"

"What, Dean? What's your excuse?"

"I-I don't know."

Sam immediately quietened down. He could hear the note of fear in Dean's voice, however small it might be.

"Dean, where are you?"

"I don't know."  
"What's that mean?"

"It means I woke up on some random street with no clue how I got here!"

"Ok Dean, calm down. Just… are there any street signs near you or anything?"

"I…" it was then that Dean realised he had walked up to a street sign before collapsing.

"Yeah, it's… Pitts street."

"Pitts street? Dean, that's like… halfway across town." Sam said after checking on a map.

"That's…unh…." Dean's voice trailed off into a groan as the pain in his side increased again.

"Dean? Dean, what happened?"

"Huh?"

"Dean, are you hurt?" Sam's voice was beginning to get frantic again.

"Hurt? Me?"

"Dean."

Dean picked up on the serious tone.

"I… I think I injured my side somehow. I don't know how, but it's bleeding."

"How much?"

"Like… think of that beer you spilled a while back."

"That much? Dean!"

"Stop yelling Sammy… making my head hurt."

Sam could sense Dean was slipping away. He grabbed the impala keys on the table and exited the room, heading for the impala.

"Ok Dean, I'm only about 15 minutes away. I need you to hold on, okay?"

"Okay…"

A pause.

"Dean?"

"What?"

"You still alright?"

"I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere without knowing how I got here, I have no-one to help me except for my puny-ass bro who's 15 minutes away, and did I also mention I'm bleeding without knowing _why_?"

Another pause.

"Geez Dean, you're grumpy when you have memory loss."

"Bite me, Sasquatch."

"And I'm taller than you."

"Bitch."  
"Jerk."

Sam smiled at the usual comebacks issues, but the smile quickly left his face when he heard another low moan coming from the phone.

"Dean?"

"I'm… all good, Sammy."  
"Dean."

"…"

"Dean?"

"…"

And then Sam heard a slight thump issuing from the phone.

"Dean? DEAN?!"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N-** wow! I was really surprised at all the reviews I got for the first chapter. Thanks, you guys! Ok, so I just wanted to clear something up; this is set sometime in the 2nd season. I'm thinking after Folsom Prison Blues, but before What Is And What Should Never Be. And now, on to chapter 2! Sorry it's a bit short; I swear, I'll try to make my chapters longer.

**Chapter 2**

Sam snapped his phone shut when he realised that Dean wasn't going to answer him. Pressing his foot down, he increased the speed he was going at, not caring if he was over the speed limit. All he could think about was his brother, lying bleeding on some random street, possibly unconscious, with no one to help him. Sam's heart began to speed up at the thought.

He finally saw the sign labelled 'Pitts Street', and swerved into the street, eyes flicking from side to side in search of his brother. He had reached the other end of the street before he saw a figure sprawled on the sidewalk to his right, their arm stretched out beside them, holding a phone.

"Dean!"

Sam hurriedly stopped the car next to Dean's unmoving figure before leaping out. He ran to his brothers' side, falling to his knees.

"Dean? Dean, come on man, wake up. Dean." Sam had one hand resting on Dean's left shoulder, anxious to shake Dean or do _something_ to make him move, but afraid of the consequences.

Dean's eyes were beginning to flicker under his eyelids.

"Yeah Dean, it's me. Come on, wake up. Please Dean."

Sam's plea did the trick; ever so slowly, Dean's eyelids finally opened, revealing a pair of bleary, pain filled green orbs.

"Hey," Sam said with a small grin, the relief plain on his face.

"S'mmy… what… I thought you said 15 minutes?"

"Well, maybe more like 7," Sam said wryly, thinking of the speed he had reached.

"It's been 7 minutes?" Sam looked worriedly at his older brother.

"Yeah Dean. I think you blacked out while talking to me."  
"Ahh…"

Sam suddenly noticed the bloodstain on Dean's shirt, which was beneath his jacket.

"Holy crap Dean. That is a _lot_ of blood."

Dean grinned woozily.

"Well, what can I say? I don't do things half way…." He started to sit up, but was stopped by a sickening dizziness coupled with intense pain.

"Wow…" he said dazedly, had clutching his forehead.

"I think it's the blood loss. Come on Dean, I need to get you back to the motel." Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, hoisting him up gently, careful to avoid touching the area where Dean was obviously hurt. Once up on his feet, Dean began swaying precariously, and had to be supported by Sam.

"Sammy, I feel like crap."

Sam realised just how bad the situation was for Dean to truthfully say how he felt.

"I know Dean. We'll get you back to the motel, and patch you up, and then you'll feel better, okay?"

"Okay..." Dean murmured, half leaning on Sam. Sam slowly guided Dean towards the passenger side of the impala, one arm placed supportively around Dean's body, holding him close to stop him falling. Dean's head was tilted towards Sam, and Sam could see every wince Dean made, and felt horrible for making Dean walk, but he knew there was no other option. As long as Dean was awake, there was no chance of carrying him. Sam _could_ knock him unconscious, but somehow, that didn't seem like the best alternative. When they reached the impala, Sam slowly opened the passenger door, still balancing Dean, before helping his brother inside. Dean slumped against the seat, hunched down, and looked so small and vulnerable that Sam felt his heart start to ache.

He quickly climbed into the drivers' side and sped off, intent on getting back to the motel. As he drove, he kept watching Dean, who was still in the same position.

"Dude, a picture is worth a thousand words," Dean finally mumbled, beginning to feel embarrassed by the amount of times Sam looked at him.

"Sorry Dean, just checking you're okay, you know?"

"Yeah. You could just ask me, you know."

"And what are the chances that you'll tell the truth?"

"I'm truthful!" Dean muttered weakly.

"Dean, lets save this argument for another day when you're better. You need as much help as you can get with that one, which means you have to be up to full strength."  
"Hmph." Dean pouted slightly at Sam, who merely responded with a wide grin. A few minutes later:  
"You feeling alright, Dean?"

"Umm… lemme get back to you on that." Sam quickly looked at Dean, who was quite pale. His right arm was pressed gently against his side, trying to slow down the bleeding without causing too much pain. His eyes were hazy, his freckles standing out against his pale skin, and his breathing was more of a struggle. Sam knew he needed to be attended to immediately.

"Hold on Dean. Just hold on."

The impala sped off into the night as Sam pressed his foot down on the accelerator. Dean wasn't going to last much longer in his current state, and there was no way Sam was going to let Dean die.

No way.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- I'm really surprised at the number of story alerts this is getting. Good to know you guys are interested! Also, thank you to my beautiful reviewers; you make the world a better place. So, chapter 3 is finally up. It's long by my standards; I was going to stop half way, but I felt guilty so I kept going. Hope you guys enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

Sam pulled into the motel a few minutes later. The car ride had been tense; Sam constantly checking Dean, and Dean gradually becoming more and more quiet as the pain and blood loss took hold. Sam was seriously beginning to worry about his brother; even once they got to the motel, he wasn't sure whether he would be able to patch up Dean.

Jumping out of the car, Sam headed for the passenger door, wrenching it open in his hurry to get to Dean.

"Oi, you be careful with my baby," Dean muttered to Sam as he tried to get out of the car.

"Dean, you're bleeding and weak and all you can think about is how I treat your car?"

"She has feelings too…" Dean's argument was cut off once Sam began helping him out of the car. It took a few minutes to get out of the car and recuperate; the sudden change in altitudes had made Dean feel woozy again, and he was forced to lean against the impala and Sam while he adjusted.

"S'mmy, what'd you think happened?" Dean asked Sam softly as they began to walk slowly to the motel room, Sam's arm once again around Dean, holding him up.

"I don't know Dean. We'll figure that out after; for now, we need to get you mended." Dean gave a little grunt of agreement as Sam opened the door.

Inside, the room was quite dark, even with the light turned on.

"Damn cheap motel," Sam cursed as he set Dean down on the bed and moved to get the first aid kit. Before he could, however, a desperate hand clung to the back of his shirt.

"Sammy, don't leave. Please. Not again…" the pleading tone in Dean's voice stopped Sam immediately.

"It's alright Dean, I'm just going to get the first aid kit. I'll be back in a second, okay?"

"You promise?" Dean asked in a small voice.

"I promise." Dean reluctantly let go of Sam's shirt, and Sam rushed to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, not wanting to leave his brother alone for a second longer than necessary. He rarely ever saw Dean so weak and clingy; it only happened when he was seriously hurt.

Returning with the first aid kit, he found Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, his body hunched over.

"Dean?"

"Sammy!" Dean's voice sounded surprised. "You came back. I thought… I didn't think you'd come back." The hurt in Dean's voice made Sam feel so guilty.

"I came back Dean, just like I promised," Sam said soothingly as he sat down next to Dean, first aid kit in hand. "Okay, let's take a look a this cut."

Sam helped Dean shrug off his jacket, which thankfully didn't have too much blood on it. In the light, Dean's shirt looked much worse; the bloodstain was spread all along Dean's right side. The deep red contrasted strongly with the blue shirt Dean had on, and Sam had to swallow before starting to remove Dean's shirt. The shirt had to be cut, because Sam was pretty sure Dean wasn't going to be able to take it off otherwise. As soon as he cut it off, Sam let out a hiss; the cut was massive. It went from just below Dean's underarm, down past his ribcage, and ended at the top of his jeans.

"Admiring the sight?" Dean's question cut into Sam's thought, but was met with silence; Sam couldn't be bothered to reply to Dean's weak joke.

"Dean, who did this to you?"

"I don't remember…" Sam sighed heavily at Dean's remark before reaching into the first aid kit for the needle and stitches. His hand hovered over the two items for a minute before moving over to a small flask.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Holy water. You don't remember how you got that, so I need to clean it properly." Dean eyed the holy water wearily; both brothers had painful experiences with it. Sam unscrewed the lid and poured a few drops on Dean's wound. Dean cried out in pain, his fingers gripping the bedspread beneath him tightly as the wound sizzled. Sam looked on guilty as he poured more; he knew that it was better for the wound to be cleaned than risk the chance of some kind of curse or supernatural infection, but still; who enjoyed seeing their brother in so much pain?

"Son of a-" Dean groaned as the last bit of holy water was poured on his wound. His fingers were white from the amount of force he had applied in gripping the bedspread.

"Well, now we know it was something supernatural," Sam said optimistically as he placed the flask back into the first aid kit and reached for the needle and thread.

"Cause that's so comforting." Dean hissed again as the needle entered his flesh. "Geez, watch where you shove that needle, will you?" Dean mumbled as Sam sewed up the wound.

"Dean? You feeling alright?"

"I-" and with that, Dean fell unconscious. His upper body fell forward, and only stopped falling because of a restraining hand from Sam.

"Dean! Hey, Dean. Come on, man." But Dean remained unconscious. Sam held his older brother in his arms, uncertain what to do. He gently manhandled Dean until he was lying on his back on the bed, and continued stitching up the wound. His fingers trembling slightly, Sam finally finished, and sat back to look at his patient. Dean was still pale, and when Sam touched his forehead, he realised Dean's skin was cool and clammy, and his pulse was fast, but growing fainter. Sam recognised the signs of blood loss, and immediately reached for his phone. He was going to need help.

"Bobby?"

"Sam? What's up? You find Dean?"

"Yeah, I got him, but Bobby, he doesn't remember what happened, and he was hurt bad. He has this massive cut, and I stitched it up, but I think he's lost too much blood."

As if on cue, Dean suddenly began coughing harshly, and once he was done, a dribble of blood slid from between his lips.

"Bobby! I need to get him to a hospital, but they'll ask too many questions!"

"Ok, slow down, boy. There's a medical facility near you where hunters go. The doctors are real good there; they know all about hunting, and don't ask too many questions."

Sam's racing heart slowed down slightly.

"Where is it?"

After getting the details, Sam thanked Bobby before putting the phone down. He quickly moved to Dean's side, checking him over. Dean's condition hadn't gotten any worse, but it definitely hadn't improved. Sam thought for a split second before making his decision. He gently scooped Dean into his arms, taking care not to press the wound. Staggering slightly under the weight, Sam walked to the impala and placed Dean in the passenger seat, where he could keep an eye on Dean. Sliding into the driver seat, Sam started the engine and drove to the medical facility.

The medical facility wasn't too far away. It was a small place; or at least it looked like it from the outside. In reality, it was quite large, and also popular- to those who knew it existed at least. However, to the outside community, it was just a random house which often got visitors, hence the cars parked outside.

Sam looked up at the building as he got out of the car. It sure didn't look like a medical place; but he knew better than to doubt Bobby. Opening the passenger door, Sam gently picked up Dean again before staggering to the front door. Before he could knock or ring however, the door opened, revealing a pretty young girl with concern on her eyes.

"Come in, quickly." Sam stepped through the door, which closed behind him. Inside, the area was an off white colour, and definitely looked clinical. There was a small waiting room with no one inside; obviously no other hunters had been hurt recently. Two men suddenly appeared in front of Sam, one wheeling a stretcher.

"Quickly, put him on here." Sam obeyed, helped by one of the men.

"How did he get the wound?"

"I don't know; he woke up about an hour ago on Pitts street without any clue as to what has happened to him for the past 2 days. I stitched up the wound, but he's suffering from blood loss, and I-"

"Thank you. You need to wait here," the second man said as they continued to wheel Dean away.

"Wait, what? No, I need to be with my brother!"

"Sir, please. Wait in the waiting room and you'll be updated on your brothers condition as soon as possible."

It was the girl who had first opened the door for him. Clearly she was some kind of receptionist. Sam reluctantly let himself be led back to the waiting room he had seen before and sat down. The girl handed him a clipboard with medical forms, which Sam stared at blankly.

"Take your time," the girl said kindly before walking off. Sam continued to look at the forms, head buzzing. Was it safe to fill in their proper details, or did they use aliases? Sam was saved the trouble of deciding by the appearance of a friendly face.

"Sam?"

"Bobby!" Sam rose quickly, giving the older man a hug. Bobby could sense the turmoil of emotions in Sam, and gestured for him to sit down again.

"You can fill in your real details. It won't be found by the police or anyone." Sam smiled slightly before beginning to fill in the forms. He knew all the answers to the questions without having to check anything, and although that pleased him, he also wished that their lives weren't so dangerous to the extent that they had the details memorised. Bobby waited till Sam had handed in the forms and was seated before beginning to question him.

"Sam, what happened?"

And so Sam filled Bobby in on all the details; Dean's initial disappearance, the number of calls Sam had made, Dean's first call, the ride to and from Pitts street, and then the drive here. Bobby listened, wide eyed.

"And he doesn't remember anything?" Sam shook his head in confirmation.

"Nothing. Not who did this to him, not where he was, _nothing_!" Sam held his head in his hands, the stress of what had happened to Dean getting to him. Bobby placed a comforting hand on Sam's back.

"Sam, it's alright. This is Dean we're talking about; that boy can survive through anything. You'll see; he'll wake up, and you'll both laugh and joke and then we can all get out of here and hunt down whatever did this to Dean."

Sam turned to face Bobby, and the older hunter was shocked to see the tears in Sam's eyes.

"How can you be sure, Bobby?"

There was a small silence while Bobby pondered how to answer the question.

"Because… because I have faith in Dean."

There was another pause until Sam's face broke out into a shaky smile at Bobby's words. The two were prevented from continuing their discussion by the arrival of a doctor.

"Are you Sam Winchester?" he said, consulting his clipboard.

"Yeah, that's me," Sam said, rising from his chair.

"Well, we have the results of your brothers condition."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- **Ok, so I would really appreciate feedback on this chapter because it's a bit… weird, and I'm not sure if it works. I'd like to thank all my reviewers again; you guys totally rock!

**Chapter 4**

Sam waited silently for the doctor to continue, his heart pounding in his chest. The doctor took a breath before continuing.

"Dean suffered from a serious wound. You say he doesn't know how he received this?" Sam shook his head in response.

"Yes well, it's definitely not a normal wound. The amount of bleeding was immense- you were lucky Dean made it here when he did, otherwise…" the doctor didn't finish the sentence.

"But is he alright now?" Sam pressed, afraid of the news. The doctor sighed.

"We managed to give him a few blood transfusions, which replaced the blood he had lost previously, but he is still extremely weak, and he also developed a fever. He's made it through the hard part, but that doesn't mean he's out of the deep end yet." The doctor looked grave, but Sam couldn't stop grinning. Dean was alright. He wasn't dead, and that meant that Sam could save him.

"He will have to stay here for at least a week, and even after that, he will need bed rest and quiet. That means no hunting," he said sternly. Sam nodded, but he knew there was no way Dean would agree. Getting him to stay here for a week was going to be a big enough challenge.

"Can we see him?" Bobby asked. The doctor nodded, but added:

"He's still asleep, but you can stay by his bedside until he wakes up." The two men followed the doctor down various corridors until they arrived at a room labelled '10'. The doctor pushed open the door, revealing a small room, with a few chairs, and a bed. A bed Dean was currently lying motionless on, hooked up to a number of machines. Sam swallowed a he took a step into the room. No matter how many times Dean landed in hospital, it never got any easier. Bobby, sensing the struggle, placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and guided him into the room, reassuring Sam that he wasn't alone.

The two walked slowly to Dean's bedside, afraid to disturb the quiet, rather cold feeling of the room. Dean lay on the bed, various tubes inserted into his body to help him survive. Tears filled Sam's eyes as he gazed down at his brother, realising just how close he had come to losing him. Bobby took a seat on a chair to the left of Dean, leaving the one on the right for Sam. Sam sat down, never taking his eyes of Dean's still form. Dean was still pale, but he was also sweating, a product of the fever. Sam gently laid a cooling hand on Dean's brow, and Dean relaxed into the touch, leaning in to Sam's hand. As he watched over Dean, Sam couldn't believe how small his older brother looked, lying in bed. His freckles only added to the innocent look. Sam vowed at that moment that he would figure out what the hell had happened to Dean and destroy those that had hurt his brother.

The hours passed slowly. Sam and Bobby would get up at various times, whether it be to go to the bathroom, get some refreshments, or in Sam's case to just pace. It was during one of these pacing sessions that Bobby finally broke the silence.

"Boy, would you just sit down; you're making my head ache." Sam continued pacing, ignoring Bobby.

"Sam. Sam!"

Sam whirled around, his eyes flaring.

"No, Bobby, I won't sit down. Dean still hasn't woken up, and even if he did, we still won't know what did this to him. Whatever's out there, it isn't dead yet, and it could come after Dean anytime. So forgive me for not being able to relax yet." Bobby just stared at Sam, expression unreadable. Sam returned the glare for about half a second before tears filled his eyes and he flopped down into his chair, hand reaching for Dean's.

"I'm sorry Bobby, I'm just…"

"Turning slightly manic?" Bobby offered. Sam merely responded with an abashed look. Bobby sighed.

"Sam, you have to believe that Dean can pull through this."

"I do believe in Dean, Bobby. I believe in Dean more than I believe in anyone in the whole world. God, I trust him with my life, with… with everything! He's raised me and protected me ever since I was a kid. I've seen him make it through impossible situations facing impossible odds! But right now… you didn't see him, Bobby. I was so… _so_ close to losing him this time Bobby…" Sam stopped talking, not wanting to think of an alternative situation where Dean hadn't made it in time.

Before Bobby could say anything, a movement from Dean's bed caught Sam and Bobby's attention.

"Dean?"

Dean began to move his head from side to side, his face formed into a frown. A slight whimper escaped his lips as his movements became more pronounced. Sam leapt up from his chair, still holding Dean's hand in his own, and hovered over Dean, anxious.

"Dean? Dean, if you can hear me… wake up. You need to wake up man, you're killing me here." There was no reply, but another whimper escaped Dean's lips.

"Dean! Bobby, what do we do?" Sam turned to look at Bobby, but there was no one there.

"Bobby? What the- Bobby?" Another whimper from Dean drew Sam's attention back to his brother.

"Dean. Dean, you need to wake up. Please Dean, open your eyes. Please… for me." It was a low blow, but it worked; Dean seemed to relax at the sound of Sam's voice, if only slightly, and then his eyes slowly opened, gazing up at Sam. His mouth opened as he tried to take in a large breath and started choking on the breathing tube.

"Dean!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean was trapped in some kind of funky town. There was no-one around, only empty streets. Dean turned around in a full circle slowly, getting an idea of his surroundings. All around him were houses, their doors all open and blowing slightly in the wind. The sun wasn't visible behind all the cloud cover, and Dean shivered slightly in his t-shirt and flannel shirt. A sudden noise made him turn around, and to his surprise his father was standing in front of him.

"Dad?"

"Dean." John wore no smile of greeting; instead he looked quite irate and disappointed. "I can't believe you, Dean."

"Dad? What-"

"All the chances you've had… and you still haven't killed Sam." Dean's eyes widened dramatically at the statement.

"Dad, you said that I'd only have to kill Sammy if there was no way to save him." John closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"Then you should know this- there is no way to save him." John slowly raised his head, revealing a pair of yellow eyes. Before Dean could do anything, he was thrown into the wall of a nearby house and pinned. John- _no, it wasn't him anymore_- advanced slowly, a sick smile on his face.

"Oh, where have I seen this before? Hm, let me think..."

"Quoting the Lion King now, are we? Scary…" Dean spat out.

"Ah, the MO all over again… really, it's getting kind of old, Dean."

"Yeah, well, you're not real are you?" The demon raised an eyebrow.

"And why would you say that?"

"Because Dad's dead." Dean spat out, the words causing his heart to ache, even after all this time. "Dad's dead, which means this isn't real. You're not real." The demon looked thoughtful.

"That's quite a good point…. Maybe I should go change?" And in front of Dean's eyes, his father became Bobby. Bobby stared at him coldly, his eyes yellow. "Is this better?"

Dean shook his head. "You're still not real." The demon laughed a cold laugh that bit into Dean's chest.

"It doesn't matter, does it? This is your mind, Dean. All sorts of things can happen." The demon began to change form again, face and body twisting grotesquely until all that was left standing in front of Dean was… Sam.

Dean swallowed.

"Dean." The demon looked at Dean, his voice a perfect imitation of Sam's. Or was it the demon? The eyes… they weren't yellow. Dean's mind started to blur slightly, facts and thoughts and dreams all becoming one.

"Dean. God, it's so good to finally be able to speak my mind." Sam's usual kind, sometimes exasperated expression was twisted into one of hate. Dean had a flashback to the asylum, when Sam had shot him. He cringed at the sound of Sam's voice, which drilled into his head.

"You can't imagine how much I detest you, Dean."

"This isn't you, Sam."

"Isn't it?"

"No. It's not. You're just some weird twisted creation from my mind."

"No Dean. This is me. This is me as I truly am. The Sam you won't be able to save. The Sam who turns against you. This is what I will become Dean. This is my destiny."

"No," Dean said, but his voice was uncertain.

"Yes. It's true. And you know what else, Dean?" Sam's voice was silky and dangerous, his eyes narrowed. "I truly hate you. All you've done for me… it's not enough. You call yourself and older brother, but you're not. What kind of older brother would leave their younger brother in the grip of a Shtriga? What kind of older brother doesn't protect their younger brother from the monsters under the bed?" Sam's voice became louder, drilling into Dean's head.

"No… those were accidents. I never meant… you weren't meant to get hurt!" Dean cried out. Sam started to double in his eyes, then triple until there were hundreds of Sam's all around him, all shouting the same thing.

"You're a terrible brother."

"No…. no…" Dean gasped, falling to his knees, clasping his hands over his ears. He kneeled there, shaking; terrified to open his eyes until he heard Sam again, but this was a different Sam.

"Dean? Dean, if you can hear me… wake up. You need to wake up man, you're killing me here…" Dean's head was spinning; he was awake and Sam hated him. So why was Sam telling him to wake up? Unless… unless this wasn't real. Dean could feel a stabbing pain building in his mind, and he let out a whimper, hand's still clasped over his ears.

"Dean. Dean, you need to wake up. Please Dean, open your eyes. Please… for me." There it was again. Sam's voice. It was drawing Dean in, pulling him closer to the brink of unconsciousness… or reality. Dean couldn't tell anymore. He felt the tug again, something pulling him towards Sam, and he made his decision. Sam was calling him, and although he didn't know where he would be going to, he had faith in Sam. Dean let himself go, and felt himself follow Sam's voice, which beckoned slowly. He felt a rush against his body, like he was passing through something invisible, and then he was suddenly lying on some soft surface, like a bed. It was then that Dean realised he couldn't breathe. His eyes flicked open, and gazed straight up at another pair of eyes that were directly above his own. _Sammy_.

Dean struggled to open his mouth, to try and get in some oxygen, but the tube stuck into his throat prevented him from doing so. Dean began coughing, choking, trying to breathe, but he couldn't. He could distinctly hear Sam shouting his name, and then a pair of restraining hands- Sam's- pressing down on his shoulders, forcing him not to move, to roll around. Dean could feel his mind begin to go hazy at the lack of oxygen, but then he heard something that made him fight to stay alive. Just one word, but it was filled with enough emotion to make a demon cry. One word filled with anguish, pleading.

"Dean!"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Oh dear, I'm sorry guys, I kind of left you all on a cliffhanger and then didn't update. I feel so mean. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It has some chick-flick moments and a bit of development in the plot. If anyone has any advice or anything, please review… I love reviews. I think I'm addicted to them. Anyway, I added in a 'flashback' to the last chapter at the beginning of this one so you guys don't have to look back. Enjoy!

_Previously:_

_Dean could feel his mind begin to go hazy at the lack of oxygen, but then he heard something that made him fight to stay alive. Just one word, but it was filled with enough emotion to make a demon cry. One word filled with anguish, pleading. _

"_Dean!"_

**Chapter 5**

Sam panicked as Dean began to struggle, unable to breathe. He quickly grabbed Dean by the shoulders, holding him down so as not to disturb the surrounding equipment. Dean kept coughing and choking, unable to breathe properly, but Sam didn't want to risk taking off the tube without the doctor's knowledge. Suddenly, Dean stopped thrashing as much, and Sam could see from his eyes that Dean was prepared to give up.

"No. No Dean, don't you dare. Please. Dean!" Sam had tears streaming down his face as he watched the life leave his brother. However, at his last plea, something had apparently sparked in Dean. He once again began coughing, albeit slowly, and Sam felt his racing pulse slow down slightly.

"Dean?"

Suddenly, Sam heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to see Bobby run into the room, accompanied by the doctor and two nurses.

"Move back!" the doctor barked as the three hurried to Dean's bed. Sam and Bobby moved to the side of the room, giving the medical staff plenty of space.

"Where did you run off to?" Sam asked Bobby distractedly, watching the doctor carefully remove Dean's breathing tube.

"Went to grab a doctor once Dean started struggling. Looks like we made it back just in time," Bobby said gruffly, his eyes in the same direction as Sam's. After a few minutes, the doctor and two nurses stepped back. The doctor approached Sam and Bobby, and for the first time, Sam noticed the nametag on his coat. 'Dr Terrence'.

Doctor Terrence smiled at the two men, gesturing to Dean.

"He's going to be alright. We removed the breathing tube because it seems he can breathe on his own now, but we'll keep the IV in for a while longer."

"Why couldn't he breathe? I thought the tube was supposed to help, not hinder," Bobby asked.

"I've seen it happen before. A patient wakes up and panics when they find something down their throat. Their body rejects the incoming air, and they can't breathe. Unfortunately, it seems Dean _really_ panicked when he woke up," Doctor Terrence finished.

"Will he wake up again anytime soon?" Sam asked desperately. Doctor Terrence frowned.

"He woke up before?"

"Yeah, just before he started choking. He recognised me, I'm positive of it."

The doctor looked surprised.

"Well, I wasn't expecting him to awaken so quickly. Your brother is a real fighter," he said to Sam.

"When he has something to fight for," Bobby said, glancing quickly at Sam. Sam pretended not to notice.

"So you don't know when he'll wake up?"

"It could be any time." Doctor Terrence said as he turned to leave the room.

"Thank you," Sam called out to the retreating figure before turning to face Dean again.

He sighed heavily before going and sitting on Dean's bed next to the once again motionless figure.

"God Dean, you really are killing me here, bro," Sam said quietly. He gently held one of Dean's hands in his own, relishing in the fact that he could feel Dean's body heat, meaning that Dean was still alive. Sam squeezed Dean's hand gently, and was surprised to feel a tiny squeeze back.

"Dean?" Sam asked, astonished. There was no reply, but Sam once again felt that miniscule amount of pressure on his hand. He stared down at their linked hands for a minute before looking back up, a look of relief and happiness on his face. For some reason, Dean couldn't wake up yet, but he was still letting Sam know he was there, still looking after his little brother. Sam leant forward and pressed his forehead to Dean's own.

"I'm still here, Dean. I won't leave, I promise." He murmured quietly. A tiny sigh left Dean's lips, so small that if Sam had been any further away, he wouldn't have noticed it. But he did, and he found himself wiping away stray tears of his face. It wouldn't do for Dean to wake up and see his little brother crying.

It was hours later when Dean opened his eyes again. Sam was still seated next to him, but his head was lolling slightly as he struggled to stay awake. A quick glance at the bedside clock told him it was 2am. Bobby was seated on a chair next to him, asleep, snoring softly. Sam was just about to give in to the calls of sleep when a movement to his left stirred him. He looked up to see Dean's brow furrowed, and a soft groan emerged from his lips.

"S…S'mmy…."

"Dean? Dean, I'm right here. Can you open your eyes?" Sam pressed, eager for his older brother to wake up. Bobby was also stirred from his sleep, and he rose from his chair to stand next to Sam, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

"Dean?" Sam asked again. Dean muttered something unintelligible before his eyelids began to flicker slightly. Sam and Bobby shared a hopefully look before gazing back down. Dean seemed to be struggling a lot, so Sam laid a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, it's alright if you can't open your eyes yet." He said soothingly, but Dean continued to struggle.

Finally, his eyelids opened. He stared up at the two worried faces gazing down at him; his eye's flickering between the two before settling on his brother.

"S'mmy? What's… what happened?" Dean asked blearily, hardly able to get out the words after all his choking and coughing. Bobby quickly grabbed a cup of water lying on the table and handed it to Sam, who helped raise his brother's head to drink the water. Once Dean's throat was slightly better, he began to ask questions again.

"Sammy? How'd I get here? Where are we?" Sam shifted guiltily, and Dean suddenly knew.

"We're at a hospital, aren't we."

"Well, it's more of a medical clinic-"

"Sam, you know any medical place is only in emergencies! As in life or death situation!"

"This _was_ a life or death situation, Dean!" Sam suddenly snapped, the pressure and waiting all getting to him. "You nearly _died _and you want to know why I brought you to a medical clinic?" Dean glanced, confused, between Sam and Bobby as Sam rose from the bed and stood slightly away, hands crossed over his chest.

"What are you talking about? I didn't nearly die…"

"Yes you did, Dean," Bobby answered, staring sympathetically between the two brothers. "That wound of yours… it's not normal. Something or someone caused you to bleed a hell of a lot more than you normally would, and we nearly lost you."

Dean's eyes once again flickered between the two, searching for the truth in their eyes. Once he found it, he slumped back in his pillow, confused.

"But I don't remember anything."

"You couldn't remember what happened to you before either, Dean. And with the amount of blood you lost, I'm pretty sure your whole body is a bit shaken up." Sam said quietly, his voice shaking slightly. Dean looked at his little brother worriedly.

"You okay?" he asked.

Bobby moved away from the bed and headed out the room.

"Coffee," he called back, but that wasn't the reason he left. He knew the two boys needed to have a heart to heart, and an audience wasn't going to help one bit.

Back in the room, Sam glared at the floor. Dean watched him apprehensively, concerned about him, but also weary about fighting.

"Sam?"

Sam turned to Dean, with tears pooling in his eyes.

"You don't know what it's like Dean. This is the third time you've been in hospital because you nearly died since I got back into the job, and I don't know how much more I can take." Sam's voice was shaking again as Dean just stared at him, eyes wide.

"Is that what this is about?" Dean finally asked quietly. Sam just nodded, unable to speak anymore. Dean sighed softly before patting the spot in his bed that Sam had previously occupied. Sam sat down, feeling like he was six all over again, and Dean was going to explain something important to him.

"I'm sorry," Dean began, looking directly into Sam's eyes. "I… I didn't realise that this tore you up so much, and I'm sorry for causing you all that pain. But believe me, Sammy, I know what it's like." Sam gazed up, confused.

"Remember that time when you got thrown down a flight of stairs by that spirit when you were sixteen? And we had to take you to hospital and we didn't know if you would wake up?" Sam nodded mutely. "Well, I think I felt the same way. I was so afraid that I would lose you, and I vowed to myself that I would never let you be in harms way again. That went out the window, of course," Dean finished with a small grin, which Sam couldn't help but return.

"I know you don't mean to hurt me, Dean. But I just don't understand why it's always you that manages to get severely hurt. You must be pissing the big guy up there a _lot_," Sam said with a lopsided grin, nodding towards the ceiling. Dean grinned back.

"So, we're okay?" Dean asked quietly after a few moments silence. Sam looked at his older brother.

"Yeah. We're okay," he replied. Dean smiled before shifting uncomfortably.

"I hate chick flick moments," he said after a pause. Sam just laughed.

Bobby then re-entered the room, surprisingly empty-handed. The two brothers looked up at him.

"Weren't you meant to get coffee?" Dean asked, looking at Bobby strangely. Bobby ignored the question, intent on getting out the information he had learnt.

"I just met up with another hunter in the corridor. He's waiting to check if his wife's alright, something about a poltergeist. Anyway, he told me that there's a coven of witches here."

The two brothers just looked at him.

"So?" Sam finally said, echoing Dean's thoughts.

"So? So maybe they're who did this to Dean," Bobby said, exasperated. Sam jumped up, looking excited.

"If they're the ones who did this, then all we have to do is find them and stop them," Sam said.

"Hey, slow down tiger," Dean said, sitting up. "Stop a coven of witches? You and what army?" Sam shook his head.

"We'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. But just think Dean; if we stop them, they can't hurt you anymore." The happiness in Sam's voice was almost tangible. Dean looked worriedly at Sam.

"Sam, I know you're pissed at them and all, but you can't go in half-cocked to try and stop them. You have to do the research, and treat this like a normal hunt, okay?" Sam just looked at Dean, giving him the '_what do you think I am; stupid?_' look, but Dean knew better than to fall for it. He knew that when something threatened their family, Sam turned blind. _Just like me_, Dean thought sadly.

"Sam, promise me," Dean said sternly. Sam just looked at Dean.

"Dude, what do you think I am, four?" Sam asked jokingly, but the look Dean gave him was serious.

"Promise me, Sammy." He said again, eyes pleading. Sam sighed before giving in.

"Alright, I promise." He said, throwing up his hands. Dean gave a smile of relief before turning his head back to Bobby.

"So, where do you think we should start?" Dean asked him. Bobby looked at him worriedly.

"Well, if it was the witches who did this to you, they've obviously got it in for you, which means we can't leave you alone at any time. So one of us will always be with you while the other does research."

Dean looked slightly annoyed at having to be babysat, but he didn't complain.

"Ok, I'll go research while you stay here with Dean for a while," Sam said, already heading out the door.

"It's 3 in the morning!" Dean said.

"Ok, so I'll go get my laptop and bring it here then," Sam called back.

"Nice to know you enjoy my company!" Dean called out. Sam turned around and gave him a sweet smile.

"Of course I do, Dean. And because I would like to have your company still with me in a few more years, I think I should go get my laptop." With that, he turned back around and walked off, leaving Dean without a comeback.

"Damn kid gets smarter all the time," Dean complained to Bobby. Bobby just chuckled.

"Some help you are," Dean growled, pouting at Bobby.

While Bobby took a seat again, intent on having a quick nap, Dean settled back into his fluffy pillows, feeling tired again.

"Witches. I hate witches," he mumbled sleepily before his eyes closed again, taking him to the land of dreams… or nightmares.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Voila, chapter 6! Bit fluffy, but I felt it had to be done. Any feedback will be cherished. The next chapter might also not be up for some time; school is torturing me with a variety of tests and such, so sorry if there is a wait!

**Beta**: The Tribble Master

**Chapter 6  
**

About an hour later, Sam returned to the medical facility to find Bobby slumped in his chair, fast asleep, sitting next to the occupied bed containing one sleeping older brother. The machines surrounding Dean, monitoring his vitals, beeped softly, filling the silence in the room. Sam walked closer to the bed, one hand grasping his duffle bag filled with various objects, his laptop bag slung over his shoulder. As he approached the bed however, he realised that Dean looked rather uncomfortable; his face was twisted in a frown, and he turned his head restlessly to one side. Sam frowned in return; Dean was usually a pretty content sleeper; he didn't move around much, and he rarely ever expressed his dreams on his face. As Sam watched, Dean's face began to twitch, and his eyes were moving rapidly under his eyelids. With a start, he shot up, nearly scaring Sam to death.

"Sammy?"

Sam couldn't help but notice the slight way Dean flinched away from Sam, and the way his eyes kept flickering down to Sam's hands, almost as if he expected Sam to be holding something.

"Hey Dean," Sam said softly as he lowered his duffle bag slowly onto the floor. Dean was breathing heavily, but as he shook away the memories of the dream, he seemed to calm down.

"What time is it?" Sam glanced at the luminescent figures on the bedside clock.

"Umm… 3:52," Sam said, sitting down in the remaining free chair. He kept glancing at Dean, who was sitting rather tensely.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Dean seemed to snap out of his thoughts. "Nothing."

"Dean."

Dean groaned inwardly. Sam used _that_ tone. He only used that when he was serious about getting answers. Coupled with _that_ look, Dean had never gained immunity to Sam in the past 23 years. At least he wasn't doing the look yet- oh no, wait, there it was.

"It's nothing, Sam."

Silence.

"Okay, it was just a bad dream!"

Sam frowned.

"What kind of bad dream?"

"It was just… I was sleeping in a motel or something, and you woke me up, and then you said some…. things, and then you…. stabbed me," Dean finished, not looking at Sam. Sam stiffened.

"I stabbed you?"

"It was just a dream, Sammy," Dean said quickly, knowing how quickly Sam jumped to any conclusion that he was a monster. "You're the one with the freaky ESP, not me."

"Yeah…" Sam still looked troubled. Dean sighed, and searched for a topic to distract Sam.

"Hey, so did you find out anything?" Dean asked, gesturing to the laptop.

"Dean, I just got here. I haven't even had a chance to turn it on yet!" Sam protested, grinning in exasperation.

"Well, what are you waiting for then?"

Sam huffed as pulled out his laptop, but a smile still lingered on his lips. Dean sighed inwardly in relief, his plan having gone perfectly.

A few hours later, Dean had fallen into a restless sleep after a long battle of fighting said sleep off. Sam smiled at his stubborn brother, whose head was nestled in his pillow, breathing quietly. He turned his attention back to his laptop, where he had been skimming through various sites. He bent closer to the screen as his eye caught something interesting.

"You've got to be joking me," he muttered softly as he quickly minimized the site and opened up a new page, intent on finding out everything he could.

It was another hour later when Sam was certain that he knew what had happened to Dean. Well, 90% certain, anyway. He quickly rose, and attempted to shake Dean awake.

"Dean. Dean!" he hissed, trying not to wake Bobby, but to no avail; Bobby shot up before Dean even opened his eyes.

"Ah, sorry Bobby, didn't mean to wake you," Sam said, cringing slightly at the thought of the scolding that would follow his unnecessary awakening of Bobby. Sure enough:

"God, you boys have no respect for your elders, do you? Just shouting all over the place, not caring who's asleep…" Bobby continued grumbling under his breath, which woke Dean up.

"Finally!" Sam exclaimed, grabbing his laptop and placing it on Dean's bed. Bobby eyed the laptop suspiciously.

"Are you meant to have that in the room? Won't it mess with the equipment or something?" The two brothers looked at each other before shrugging.

"Nothing's happened yet, so it seems fine," Dean said conclusively, although the effect of his certainty was somewhat diminished when coupled with the sight of him rubbing his eyes and yawning. Bobby shrugged, returning his attention to the agitated Sam, who was fidgeting.

"You need to go potty or something?" He asked Sam jokingly. Sam glared.

"Ha ha, very funny Bobby. Dean, I think I found out what attacked you." He said seriously. Dean and Bobby immediately perked up.

"What is it?" Dean asked, half interested, half afraid. Sam took a deep breath.

"Witches."

"Witches? On great. Come on, _witches_?!"

Sam nodded grimly.

"Well, that's just great. Why don't I just go drown myself?"

"Hey, easy Dean. What else did you find out, Sam?" Bobby said calmly, placing a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Ok, so whoever the witches are, they're using a really malevolent form of magic called seiðr. It robs its victims of their sanity, health, and eventually their lives. I think that for some reason or another, they attacked you last night, and even now, they're still plaguing you."

"Er, Sam? I don't see any witches hovering around," Dean said half jokingly.

"They're not _physically_ here. But they are here. In your mind."

"Excuse me? Come again?"

"They somehow infiltrate your mind, your dreams. Those nightmares you've been having? It's them."

"Okay, hold up. Some witches are taking control of my dreams after stabbing me?"

Sam nodded.

"…why?"

"I was reading up on some other cases, and it seems that they eventually make your dreams so bad that you can't go to sleep. You end up slowly going crazy from lack of sleep, but your body also weakens, and that's when they attack."

There was a silence.

"I don't believe it."

"Dean, this isn't a joke!"

"Come on Sammy, witches making people too scared to fall asleep? That's like some weird version of _Nightmare on Elm Street_. No way it happens."

There was another silence.

"Well, have you had any other nightmares?" Sam asked, somewhat desperately. Dean's face fell.

"No freaking way…"

"What?"

Dean swallowed.

"Before I woke up, I had this… dream. And you were both in it, and so was dad, but you were all the yellow-eyed demon. He just changed from dad to you, Bobby, and then to you, Sam, and then he just started talking and stuff…"

"Talking about what?" Bobby asked, watching Dean carefully.

"Just… he pretended he was Sam, and he just kept saying that… that I was a bad brother," Dean said softly, eyes intently looking anywhere but at Sam and Bobby. The two in question looked at each other, the same worried expression mirrored on both faces.

"It fits the pattern, Dean," Sam said quietly. Dean nodded.

"Yeah… didn't really want to go back to sleep after that."

"So… I guess it's them then."

After another pause:

"What I don't get it why did they stab you and leave you there?" Bobby asked. Sam looked up.

"I read that they need some of the victims blood to have control over their dreams."

"But they could have just killed me then and there. Why go to all this trouble?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

"More fun? I don't know, but that's not the major issue here. We need to find them and stop them before they kill you, Dean."

"That's not going to be easy," Bobby said seriously. "Witches means serious business; they can be nasty pieces of work."

"Don't I know it," Dean muttered. Sam looked at him strangely.

"Why do you hate witches so much? I mean, I know why, but… you _really_ seem to dislike them."

Dean glanced at him.

"Just this hunt in Ohio with a witch… didn't go that well."

Bobby scoffed.

"Didn't go that well? You were half dead when you pulled up at my house. If I hadn't been able to get that healer in time, you wouldn't be here Dean."

Sam looked at the two, eyes wide.

"What _happened_?"

"Sam, you're like a little kid wanting to hear a bedtime story."

"Am not!" Sam protested indignantly.

"You so are."

"Not!"

"Dude!"

"… shut up." Sam said grumpily, slumping back in his chair. Bobby just shook his head at their antics.

"Well, if you two are finished with your little hissy fit, lets get to work. Sam, you stay here while I go see if there are any possible suspects." Bobby got up to leave, but first looked sternly at the two.

"And if I come back to hear another little argument, mark my words, you'll _wish_ the witches were here!"

Dean and Sam looked at each other after Bobby left.

"Hissy fits?" Sam said indignantly.

"He's lost it," Dean said sadly. He settled back into his pillow, staring at the blinds covering the window.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"What _did_ happen in Ohio?"

Dean sighed.

"It was just a bad hunt, Sammy."

"Did you kill the witch?"

"No. She got away."

Silence fell upon the pair again.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You already know this, but… well, I don't know how long it's been since I've said it, so-"

"Just spit it out, Sam."

Sam took a breath before looking Dean directly in the eyes.

"You're the best big brother anyone could ask for."

And maybe it was a trick of light, but Sam could have sworn he saw a flash of pride and happiness in Dean's eyes, and maybe even the hint of tears; but in a split second it was all gone, and all that was left was Dean smirking at him.

"Going all girly on me, Samantha?"

"Screw you," Sam said playfully. But as he settled back down in his own chair, Sam caught Dean looking at him again, with a look of hope.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said softly, so softly most people would have missed it. But Sam heard. He always heard.

To Be Continued….


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Introducing chapter 7! It's a bit longer than usual, so I guess as my beta says; there's more to love. By the way, I _love_ reviews *hint hint*.  
Once again I would like to thank my marvellous beta, The Tribble Master, for helping me fix this chapter up. My grammar is atrocious at time.

Upwards and onwards!

**Chapter 7**

By the next day, Dean was complaining that he was bored. He whined and whined until Sam was reduced to covering his ears with a pillow.

Unfortunately that still didn't block out the sound of Dean's voice.

"Sam!"

"Dean, you're not getting out!" Sam replied from his seat on a chair beside Dean's bed, book in hand.

"Sam, I'm _fine_, and there's no point in me just waiting here like a sitting duck for those witches."

"As opposed to being a sitting duck in a motel room?"

"At least a motel has TV!"

"Dean, _no_."

But eventually, Sam had to give in. Dean could be both very persuasive and very good at blackmailing.

"You ever show that picture to anyone and I'll kill you," Sam muttered to Dean as he helped him get out of the hospital bed that afternoon.

"Yeah, whatever Samantha." Anything else Dean intended to say was cut of by a low moan as his feet hit the floor.

"Dean?"

"Mmm… I'm good, just hurts a bit." He struggled to hold back another groan as pain shot through his side. Sam grabbed his arm painfully tight, supporting him.

"Dean, you're not ready to leave. You need to stay here."

"Sam, look around. See any hot nurses?"

"The receptionist is kind of cute…"

"Sam, do you see the receptionist coming in and checking on me anytime? No."

"Whatever man-" Sam started, but was cut off as Doctor Terrence walked in.

"Dean, you're- you should not be out of bed!" Doctor Terrence hurried over to Sam and Dean, a frown fixed on his face, mingled with a look of disbelief.

"You were stabbed _two days_ ago and you're leaving?!"

"Look, Doc, I know that I should be resting and all that, but we're kind of in the middle of a hunt-"

"_I'm_ in the middle of a hunt," Sam interrupted, ignoring the glare directed his way. "And I would feel better if Dean was with me while I worked instead of being here."

"He's perfectly safe here-" Doctor Terrence started to say, but was cut off by Dean.

"Come on, Doc, you know what's out there. Nowhere is safe." The Doctor gazed at them for a short while being sighing in defeat.

"Ok, you can go, but I want you back here in 2 days for another check up. And no hunting for you," he added sternly to Dean. Dean saluted.

"Yes sir."

Once they reached the Impala, Dean let out a small sigh of happiness.

"Hey baby. Oh, I missed you, you beauty," he crooned, rubbing his hand affectionately on her hood. Sam rolled his eyes before stuffing their bags into the backseat. He headed over to the passenger side where Dean stood.

"Come on."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm helping you get into the car."

"I'm not a kid, Sam. I can do it myself."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

"Fine. Go ahead."

Dean opened the door with a minimum amount of pain, but as soon as he began bending to get in, a flash of pain made him lean heavily against the Impala, eyes closed. A low groan emerged between his lips as he struggled to breathe through the intense pain currently circulating his body. Through the haze, he could feel a comforting hand on his shoulder, and a voice talking to him reassuringly. He blinked back the pain and struggled to understand the voice.

"… just breathe, Dean. In and out. The pain will go away soon, I promise. You just stay with me, okay?" Sam said quietly, hand never leaving Dean's shoulder.

"Sammy… I'm good. It's alright." Dean finally managed to say after the pain had subsided. Sam glared at Dean.

"I told you to let me help you!"

"Not helping, Sam…"

"Yeah well…" Sam muttered under his breath as he helped Dean into the impala. After a few minutes, Dean was finally seated in the passenger seat, though his eyes were squeezed tight and his hands were white from holding on to the side of his seat as he tried to focus on anything but the pain he felt. Sam slid into the driver's side, eyes gazing worriedly at Dean.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"Peachy," Dean replied, eyes still closed.

Sam started the engine and the two headed for a nearby motel: _Leisure Lots_.

After getting a room with two single beds, Sam somehow managed to get Dean and their bags inside the room. It wasn't too bad; pretty spacious, and it didn't have any weird features. Dean was currently sitting on his bed, carefully balancing his weight so his wound would be as painless as possible. Sam sat opposite him on the other bed.

"Still wishing you came here?"

"Yes," Dean said unconvincingly. Sam sighed before rising up.

"Ok, I already told Bobby where we are, and he should be here soon. I think he found something out."

"Good," Dean said as he lay back on the bed, TV remote clutched in his hand. He flicked on the channel and stared at the television, but his mind wasn't following whatever was playing. Sam noticed his blank eyes, and sighed again. He'd never had the bad luck of dealing with witches. Dad had, many times, but Sam was still too young to hunt then. He did however remember his father coming home injured and tired many times, and on a few occasions with Dean as well. Looking at his brother now, Sam resolved that he wouldn't let the witches touch a hair on Dean's head. They wouldn't harm him anymore.

_Bit late for that though_, he thought reflectively, still staring at Dean. Dean twitched uncomfortably before turning to glare at Sam.

"Sam, I'm fine! Will you stop staring at me?"

Sam shook his head, startled out of his thoughts.

"Huh?"

Dean just groaned in frustration before slumping back into his pillows. His eyes closed briefly. Sam was just about to speak when there was a knock at the door. A gruff voice called out:

"Sam? Dean? You boys in there?"

"Bobby," Sam said in relief, and Dean smiled briefly. No matter how old they got, both Sam and Dean found relief in hunting with Bobby, who was like a second father to them.

_Maybe more of a father than dad was to us_, Sam thought, but then reprimanded himself. No matter how much Sam hadn't gotten along with his father, he knew they were lucky that John had immersed himself in hunting rather than alcohol. He also knew, and now cherished, the fact that his father _had_ loved both him and Dean.

"Sam," Bobby greeted as he stepped through the door Sam had just opened. He turned his attention to Dean.

"Dean. You okay, son?" Dean smiled wearily.

" 'M good, Bobby. Bit tired."

"Had anymore dreams?"

Dean sighed. "Not really. I didn't sleep much last night, though."

"Well, hopefully we'll find these witches and stop them before anything else happens. And I think I know where to start."

Both Sam and Dean perked up immediately, staring impatiently at Bobby. He chuckled slightly at their change in demeanour.

"Well, I found out that four new women moved here last week. In fact, two days before you were taken, Dean. All four live on the same street, and all four do not exist."

"Wait, what?" Sam asked, having lost track after Bobby's last statement.

"They don't exist. Their names are false, their identities, their previous addresses, everything is fake."

"Wait, so how come no-ones done anything about it? You know, confronted them?" Dean asked, confused.

"Witches, Dean." Bobby said, as if stating the obvious.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget. Witches." The last word was a mumble, but Sam still caught it. He looked at Dean carefully and saw the carefully concealed fear in his eyes. Sparing a sympathetic gaze at Dean, Sam turned his attention back to Bobby.

"So, did you talk to them?"

"No. That's where you come in, Sam."

"What? Why me?"

"People skills," Bobby said as he handed Sam a bag. 'Go get changed into this. Gas company uniform; just tell them that there might be a gas problem and they'll let you in."

"Sam has enough gas problems as it is," Dean added, smirking. Sam poked his tongue out at Dean.

"I don't see why I have to go, though," Sam protested as he was pushed into the bathroom.

"Sam, for one you need some fresh air, and for another, you're young and good with people. I go snooping around and people get suspicious."

"It's the beard, Bobby. Makes you look dangerous." Bobby just glared warningly at Dean, who replied with an innocent smile. Sam grinned at the comment before reluctantly going into the bathroom to change. Maybe he could get Dean or Bobby to change their mind with his puppy-dog eyes. But Dean _and_ Bobby? That was more than Sam could handle.

A few minutes later he was in the Impala, driving to the first house, which belonged to one Fiona Kirrans. However once he arrived there, nobody was at home. Sam was tempted to pick the lock and go inside, but just in case she _was_ a witch… Well, Sam didn't want to be turned into a pig or something. He instead decided to go check out the next house on the list, but there was no one there either. Feeling confused and slightly worried, Sam checked the other 2 houses, but it was the same situation. By now he had a gut feeling that something was wrong, and the drive back to the motel took even shorter than is usually would have. He practically ran from the Impala to the room, and threw open the door. The sight that greeted him was not one he would forget anytime soon.

Bobby lay sprawled out on the floor unconscious. However, the thing that made Sam's heart stop was the sight of his brother. Dean was lying on the ground, choking and coughing up blood.

"Oh god, Dean!" Sam yelled, running to his older brother. He grabbed Dean by the shoulders, trying to help him up, but another bout of coughing forced Dean's body back to the ground. His pain-filled green eyes stared directly at Sam, and he started to mouth something when more blood came choking out of his mouth. It spread across his lips and trickled down his chin onto the floor. Sam, now desperate, began to search the room. He knew that witches used hex bags to mark their victims, and this had to be the witches. Sam began rummaging through everything; drawers, bags, under the bed, but there was nothing there. He turned back to face Dean, who's coughing was sounding more wet as more blood rose up his throat.

"S…mmy… mattress…" Dean choked out, blood overflowing his lips. Sam stared at him, at a complete loss. Mattress? What about the mattress? He gazed at the innocent looking lump on the bed Dean had been lying on, and then it hit him. _The hex bag was in the mattress_. Sam grabbed his knife out of his pocket and tore ferociously at the mattress. It split easily under his knife, revealing a small dark brown cloth bad tied with string. Sam grabbed his lighter and the bag, and set alight the small bag. It began to burn, and a putrid smell began to emerge. Sam hurried to the bathroom, where he dropped the bag into the sink. There it lay, smouldering, the contents burned but still recognisable.

Sam suddenly realised that he could no longer hear Dean choking, and feared the worse. He rushed back into the main room to see Dean struggling to rise from the ground, his face twisted in agony. Sam walked over to Dean and gently knelt beside him, placing a helping hand around his shoulders. Dean didn't swat away the help as he usually would. He accepted it, which showed Sam just how bad Dean felt. He helped Dean onto his own bed, seeing as Dean's mattress was ripped up, and looked at his brother. Dean was obviously in pain, and there was blood on his clothes, but he didn't look to be in any serious trouble. Sam sighed with relief before wrapping his arms around Dean. To his credit, Dean didn't immediately push Sam away, but instead leant into the hug, relishing in the feeling of being safe for once. The two stayed like that for a few moments before Dean began to struggle. Sam reluctantly released him.

"Bobby," Dean croaked out, the lifted a hand to his throat in pain. Sam turned to where Bobby still lay; in the confusion, he had completely forgotten about Bobby. Said person was beginning to awaken, a look of confusion in his eyes.

"What the…" Bobby mumbled, rubbing a hand over his head. He felt like his head had just been bashed; an intense pain throbbed throughout, causing him to wince. His eyes flickered around until he saw Sam and Dean seated on a bed. Dean was covered in blood and he looked in pain, and Sam looked shaken and a little guilty.

"Bobby. Are you alright?" Sam asked, getting up off the bed to help Bobby stand up. Bobby accepted the helping hand as he rose to his feet, head still spinning.

"Yeah… but my head feels like it's about to explode," he muttered. "What happened?"

"Witches." Sam said grimly, eyes flickering momentarily to Dean. "I went to the addresses you gave me, but there was no one at any of the homes, so I came back here. You were unconscious, and Dean was"- here Sam swallowed- "coughing up blood."

"Hex bag?"

"Burnt it. It's still in the sink."

"Where was it?"

"The mattress," a hoarse voice interjected. Both men turned to look at Dean, who was still seated on the bed. He gazed up at them, eyes large. "In Ohio… the hex bag was in the mattress too."

A pause filled the room as all three men exchanged worried glances. Finally, Sam spoke up.

"They know where we are. They know we're after them."

"They want us to look for them." Dean said quietly. Bobby nodded in agreement.

"Yes. But that just means we have to hunt them down quicker. First though, we need to get you cleaned up." This last comment was directed at Dean, who was still covered in blood not only from choking, but also from the reopened stab wound. Sam went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit while Bobby sat down on the mutilated bed, head still aching.

"You alright Bobby?" Dean asked hoarsely, already seated opposite him. Bobby chuckled.

"You nearly died and you're asking me how _I'm_ doing?"

"Hey, you're getting older, Bobby. Not as strong as you once more." Bobby swiped gently at Dean.

"You watch your mouth boy. You should respect your elders!" Dean's smile lessened.

"You know I respect you, Bobby." He said, completely serious, green eyes staring into Bobby's own. Bobby nodded.

"I know you do, Dean." Dean smiled lopsidedly in response as Sam came back into the room, medical kit in hand.

"Dean, take off your shirt."

"Geez, bit eager Sammy!"

"Bite me."

"Very eager!"

"Dean."

"… I might need some help," Dean finally said, blushing slightly. Sam set the medical kit on the bed and helped Dean manoeuvre his shirt off with as little movement as possible. Bobby hissed as he saw the stab wound currently in Dean's side.

"It's nothing," Dean said dismissively. Bobby merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? I-" his reply was cut off by a yelp as Sam pressed antiseptic to the wound.

"Geez Sam! Son of a- ow!"

"Sorry Dean, but it has to be cleaned."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," Dean mumbled, wincing in pain.

Eventually Sam was finished.

"Okay, so now what?" he asked.

"There's not much we can do. I suggest we have an early night and be prepared to be up in the morning."

"Bobby, it's 7 o'clock!"

"Hey, this _old man_ is tired after his witch encounter."

"Besides Dean, you need rest." Dean turned to Sam, eyes wide.

"You traitor! You're siding with him?" Bobby and Sam just grinned while Dean pouted.

"So not fair."

"Quit your whining Dean and go to sleep. I'm off; staying at a different motel."

"Be careful!" Sam called out as Bobby left. He turned back to Dean, eyebrow raised.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Well? Are you going to willingly go to bed or do I have to force you?"

After much grumbling, Dean was finally tucked into Sam's bed while Sam claimed the sofa. Dean was currently peering at Sam over the thick duvet covering him.

"Sam."

"What?" Sam mumbled from the sofa.

"I'm not tired."

"Dean, just close your eyes and go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired."

"Dean."

"Sam."

Sam nearly snapped at Dean, but then he realised the problem. Dean was afraid to go to sleep, afraid of what he might see in his dreams. Sam instead put on his best comforting gaze and looked at Dean.

"I'm right here Dean. Nothing's going to happen."

Dean just looked at Sam.

"Don't know what you're yabbering on about," he mumbled, turning slightly under the covers. However Sam noticed that only moments later Dean's breathing was slow and even, a clear sign that he had fallen asleep under the watchful gaze of his younger brother.

Sam smiled and shifted slightly under his own blanket, making sure he was facing the bed. The last thing he saw before falling asleep was Dean's own face, turned towards him, looking peaceful and content.

Unfortunately, the feeling would not last long.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- **Sorry for the wait guys; my life is really hectic right now. The next chapter might not by up for a while, but hang in there; it WILL be up. I'd like to thank my awesomely cool beta who I would be completely lost without. Thanks 'The Tribble Master'! And I'd also like to thank my reviewers for reading and reviewing. You guys honestly make my day. So, without further delay, I present chapter 8!

**Chapter 8**

Dean knew he was dreaming.

He had to be; how else would he have ended up at Bobby's house?

This didn't make him feel any better as he walked through the silent rooms, peering wearily into each one, afraid of what he would find.

_Your mind is your worst enemy_, he thought to himself, his fingers itching for a gun. He grasped in his hand a baseball bat that he'd found on the floor. He treaded softly over the carpeted floors upstairs, baseball bat held firmly in his right hand. As he approached the next room, he suddenly felt uneasy. Something wasn't right.

Dean slowly pushed open the ajar door and peered into the room. His eyes widened.

"Bobby?"

Bobby lay on the floor, blood seeping from a bullet wound in his forehead. His eyes were wide open, gazing unseeingly at the ceiling.

"Oh God, Bobby!"

Dean backed away, feeling the bile rising in his throat. Bobby was- he couldn't be! But the bullet wound… in his head! Dean left the room, heading towards the next room. He pushed open the door, and stopped breathing.

"Sam!"

Dean stared up in horror at the figure of his brother, who was hanging from a fan with a rope tied around his neck. His head was tilted at an abnormal angle as he stared at Dean with dead eyes.

"Sam. Sammy! Please…"

Dean glanced frantically around the room, searching for something, anything that could cut his brother down. His eyes finally noticed a small knife located on a table. He grabbed it, stood on a chair and cut through the rope that had killed his brother. Sam's body fell down ungracefully with a loud thump. Dean got off the chair, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Sam? Oh God… this can't be happening…" Dean rocked Sam's limp body in his arms, his face pressed against Sam's hair, wet with his tears. He could feel Sam's skin, cold against his own, death seeping in. Dean burrowed his face into Sam's hair.

"No… I said I'd protect you. I swore-"

"You failed," a smooth voice interrupted. Dean started, eyes flying up to see the woman standing before him. She was stunning; the kind of girl Dean would normally ask out in a split second. But there was something about her; a presence, a danger that lurked nearby. She stared mockingly at Dean, her brown eyes wide.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Looks like you lost."

Dean's lip curled as he stared at her.

"You," he spat out, wiping the current tears staining his cheek.

"Me," she said happily, grinning down at him. "My, you haven't changed one bit."

"Neither have you. Still as witchy-looking as you always were."

"You really know how to compliment a girl, don't you," she said, sly smile widening.

"You're no girl."

"A witch is still human, Dean."

"Not you."

She walked closer to Dean, who was still clutching Sam tightly.

"My, you are a grudge holder, aren't you? I just injure you a bit and you hold it against me for years."

"Take a look in the mirror, witch. You're the one trying to kill me."

"Yes, well… I can't have you running around after what you tried to do to me. Murderers should be punished, Dean."

"I didn't kill you. But I will. After what you did to Bobby and Sam-" Dean choked on his words, gazing down at Sam's still figure cradled in his arms.

"I didn't do anything to them, Dean. It was you."

"What?"

"Yes. It's all your fault. You led them to find me and now they're dead. Because of you."

"No. You killed them!"

"What choice did I have, Dean? They tried to kill me; I had to defend myself. But if you hadn't told them to kill me, they would still be alive. This is all _your_ doing," she said, voice turning cold. Dean didn't want to believe her, He really didn't. But he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault. Because of him, Sam lay dead in his arms, and Bobby was shot in the next room. Dean could feel the hot tears running down his cheeks; they had never stopped falling since he had discovered Sam. The witch stood before him, watching his grief.

"No… please no…" Dean cried, feeling his heart shatter. He was alone. Sam and Bobby had left him, and it was all his doing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to no one before closing his eyes. He heard her laugh cruelly and his eyes flew open to see her fly down upon him, mouth opened in a menacing grin-

Dean's eyes flew open again as he sat in bed, shaking. Sam hovered over him, eyes worried.

"Dean! Hey, Dean, it's alright. It's okay."

"Sammy. You're alive?" Dean mumbled, griping Sam's shirt tightly in his fist.

"Yeah. I'm right here, Dean." It was then Dean realised he had tears on his cheeks. He reached up to wipe them away, but was stopped by Sam.

"Dean. What happened?" Sam asked, his voice so comforting and full of love that Dean felt like crying all over again.

"I saw her, Sammy. The witch, the one from Ohio. She killed you and Bobby. She said that you died trying to stop her because I told you to, she-"

Dean couldn't handle it anymore. The dream haunted his thoughts, and remembering how Sam had lain so still in his arms, dead- Dean broke. He grabbed Sam and held him tightly in his arms. Luckily, Sam realised how important this was to Dean, and didn't pull away; instead he remained still, but kept murmuring unimportant phrases to Dean, knowing that it didn't matter what he said, just that he did. Dean sniffed, knowing how unusual it was for them to have this many chick-flick moments. For now though, he relished the fact that Sam was warm and alive in his arms; still breathing and definitely not dead.

Dean eventually pulled away. Sam regarded him, still worried.

"You alright Dean?"

"Yeah, I just… sorry."

"You don't have to apologise for hugging me, man."

Dean cracked a smile in response.

"I'm not dead Dean, and neither is Bobby. I can call him if you like-"

"No, I just-"

And then the image of Bobby, lying dead in his own home flashed before Dean's eyes. He swallowed painfully before looking back up at Sam.

"Actually, I think I will call him."

Sam understood; the number of times he had seen a vision of someone dying, and knowing that it could come true- he could appreciate the fear Dean felt. Dean shakily rose from his bed and grabbed his mobile. He dialled Bobby's number, and waited.

"Dean?"

Dean let out of breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Bobby."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just… it's nothing."

"You woke me up at 12 for nothing?" Dean let out a sigh.

"I just had a dream, and I had to check you were okay." He admitted.

"I'm fine, Dean. Pretty bad dream, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Well, you go get some more sleep if you can. Hopefully tomorrow we'll catch them witches."

"Yeah. Night, Bobby."

"Goodnight Dean."

Dean put down his mobile, feeling slightly better. Sam observed his reaction.

"All good?"

"Yeah."

Sam smiled, but his happiness faded as he pondered his next question.

"Do you… do you think you could sleep again?"

Dean shuddered at the thought of sleeping, the thought of seeing Sam and Bobby dead again, but he knew he needed to sleep, and more importantly that Sam needed to sleep.

"I'll be fine. They're just dreams, can't hurt me."

Sam couldn't help but notice that Dean didn't sound utterly convinced at his own words. He decided to help Dean out.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Dean demanded to Sam, who was seating himself into a chair beside Dean's bed.

"I'm going to sit here."

"Yeah, but _why_?"

"Dean, these dreams are obviously bothering you and it helps if you know someone's there!"

"I'm not a kid Sam, I don't need comforting!"

"Well, you didn't look to sure when you woke up from that last dream!" Sam shot back.

Dean flinched. Sam saw the look of shame, and felt guilty.

"Look man, I know that you think its wussy or whatever, being scared of your dreams, but I know how you feel. With all the dreams I had, I thought I would break. But you know what helped?"

"What?" asked Dean, who despite his best efforts had been listening closely.

"You did. Every time I woke up, you were there, and I knew that I was safe."

Silence.

"So… do you still want to reject my offer?"

Dean sighed.

"No."

He clambered into bed and looked at Sam.

"But I swear, you hold my hand or anything… watch out." Dean warned. Sam just grinned innocently before snuggling as much as he could into the chair, attempting to cover himself with a blanket. Dean smirked slightly before yanking the blanket sideways so it actually stayed.

"Thanks Dean."

"Mmhmm."

It took a long time for Dean to get to sleep. And it took even longer for Sam, who kept waking up every now and then to check on Dean. There were a few moments, a few instances where Dean would suddenly twist under his covers, or mutter something, but Sam would be there every time to reassure him, to lay a hand on his shoulder, or to say a few comforting words.

It was a long night.

The next morning, Dean was up first. He went to a nearby store and grabbed some coffee, figuring that since the witches already knew where he was, it didn't matter if he stayed inside or went out. By the time he returned, Sam had begun to rise.

"What time is it? Sam muttered sleepily, moving his neck, which felt cramped.

"Um, about 5."

"Bright and early… is that coffee?"

By about 6, both boys were awake, pumped with caffeine, and ready to go. Bobby joined them soon after.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Sam asked.

"We could check out the houses again," Bobby suggested.

"But they weren't there last time. I checked every one." Sam protested.

Dean shook his head.

"They'll be there this time."

"How do you know?"

"They want me to find them. Last time they tried to scare us, that's why they weren't there. But they will be this time."

Bobby glanced at Dean.

"Okay then, lets hit the road."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **It's been quite a while since I've updated, and for that I apologise. Hope you guys are still interested in finding out what happens to Sam, Dean and Bobby! I'll make this short; just want to say thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, including those who I can't reply to. You guys are just fantastic. Special thanks to my beta, The Tribble Master, who I dedicate this chapter to because she's just awesome. So, onwards and upwards!

_**Previously on:**_

"Hey, slow down tiger," Dean said, sitting up. "Stop a coven of witches? You and what army?"

"Witches. I hate witches," he mumbled sleepily.

"Why?"

"Just this hunt in Ohio with a witch… didn't go that well."

"Did you kill the witch?"

"No. She got away."

_And now…_

"They want me to find them. Last time they tried to scare us, that's why they weren't there. But they will be this time."

_**Without further hesitation:**_

**Chapter 9**

The two cars pulled up in front of the house. Two young men stepped out of the first car, each one glancing anxiously at each other as they observed the house in front of them. A third older man stepped out of the second car. He joined the other two in front of the house, gazing up at it.

"This is it, boys," Bobby said. They were once again at Fiona Kirrans' house, only this time it was all of them, not just Sam. The three stood awkwardly at the front door.

"Do we knock?" Sam finally asked. Dean merely rolled his eyes before twisting the door handle and pushing the door open. The three men traipsed into the house, tense and expecting an attack at any moment. They parted company, with Dean and Sam following one hallway while Bobby went to explore the other. Dean's eyes trailed along the walls, which contained various pictures of 'Fiona' during her life. He swallowed as his eyes passed over one taken a few years previously, showing Fiona with another woman. It was _her_. _She_ was in the picture with Fiona.

"What is it?" A voice said at Dean's shoulder, making him start.

"Dude!"

"Sorry. But what's wrong? Is it something in the pictures?"

Dean raised a hand and pointed at the picture. Sam's eyes followed, then widened.

"Is that her? The witch from Ohio?"

Dean nodded.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

"You took your time," a voice said from behind them. Sam and Dean whirled around to see Fiona from the pictures standing behind them. Her outstretched hand was raised in the direction of Bobby, who was currently being held against the wall by an invisible force.

"Let him go!" Dean said angrily, advancing on Fiona. Sam placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. The witch laughed coldly at the action.

"Oh, does wee little Dean need his younger brother to protect him?" She asked mockingly and her hand moved forward slightly. A groan unwillingly left Bobby's mouth as he was pushed into the wall with more force. Dean growled.

"You leave Bobby and my brother out of this. This is between me and her. Not you. Not them." Dean replied coldly, green eyes glaring at her.

"Oh, that's not very likely to happen, sweetheart," she said with a smirk "You see, by yourself you're no fun. You're so selfless and pathetic that you hardly care about yourself. But your family- you would fight tooth and nail to keep your family safe and alive wouldn't you Dean?" She finished suggestively, the smirk growing wider.

Sam swallowed as the words left her red lips. The thing that upset him the most was that the witch spoke the truth. Beside him, Dean stood unmoving, glaring at her.

"Well, you can see the problem here. We need Bobby and _dear_ Sammy here if we want to have fun with you." As she finished, her other hand raised and Sam found himself flying into a nearby wall with a crash. His head pounded against the wall, leaving him feeling nauseous and dizzy. Through a haze, he could see Dean staring at him, eyes wide and angry.

"Leave him alone!" He yelled at Fiona as he ran towards her. Unfortunately for her both her hands were in use and she could not defend herself in time. Dean crashed into her, knocking her to her feet and breaking the spell that had kept Sam and Bobby to the wall. The two fell down, neither landing very gracefully. Sam leapt to his feet to witness Dean and Fiona wrestling on the floor. Despite Dean's obvious strength, the witch still had the upper hand. She was chanting something, and as Sam watched, Dean's eyelids began to droop until only slits of green could be seen. Fiona let go of his shirt and his upper body fell to the ground with a soft thud, eyes completely closed and face lax.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, attempting to run towards the still figure of his brother. An invisible force stopped him, holding him back. Fiona had risen from the floor, looking much less certain of herself. She began to chant to herself again, hands still raised to prevent both Sam and Bobby from moving. Sam spared a glance at Bobby, who looked worriedly back. The room began to grow cold as the colours began to fade. Sam looked uncertainly at the previously cream walls, which were now made of grey stone.

"Sam," a low voice whispered. Sam turned back to where his brother lay, still on the floor. His eyes were half closed; one would think he had just woken up from a long nap. "Sam." Dean said again, but this time his eyes flickered behind Sam. Sam apprehensively turned around to find a woman standing behind him wearing a long black cloak.

"Bobby!" Sam yelled in warning, but it was too late. An enraged roar filled the room as Bobby was dragged unwillingly to a nearby room. Sam felt a pair of strong hands grab his own arms and drag him away. He struggled against them, but they were like steel. As he was being dragged away, Dean's eyes followed him, the green flashing in the dark light. _Don't worry_, Dean's eyes seemed to say. Sam managed to return his pretentious look of _I'm not worrying_ before he too was thrown into the room.

**o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o**

It must have been hours they spent in the room. Sam paced angrily, Bobby sat despondently. There was no way out of the room; they had checked. Now all they could do was wait for the witches' decisions.

Sam let out a breath of air as he reached the end of the small room yet again. He turned around to face the other way and began pacing. Again. Bobby let out a huff or irritation as Sam passed him.

"Do you ever get tired of pacing?" Bobby finally asked. Sam looked at him.

"No."

"Should have known. Even as a kid, you would always pace. Walk up and down my house waiting for your dad or Dean to come back. Made a hole in my favourite rug, you know that?"

Sam wasn't sure if Bobby was joking or not, and he didn't really care at that moment.

"What's happening, Bobby? What could they do to him?"

Bobby's gaze lifted to Sam's eyes and Sam felt a thrill of horror run down his back at the haunted look.

"What couldn't they do, Sam?" Bobby asked, and Sam felt his heart speed up again. It seemed that he wasn't the only one who had been wondering about the fate of Dean.

A sudden creak turned both men's attention towards the now slightly ajar door. Sam and Bobby exchanged a glance before walking out of the room.

It seemed the room had somehow changed location while they were inside. There was now only one corridor leading from the door, giving Sam and Bobby no choice but to follow it. Sam led the way, his footsteps echoing slightly in the passage. At the end was another door, a wooden one with a large brass handle. Sam raised an eyebrow at Bobby, who shrugged in response. With a gulp, Sam pushed the door open.

The room in front of him was dark and cold. A chill ran through Sam's body at the sudden change in temperature. What caught his attention however was not the room, but what it contained. For against the far wall, hands tied in ropes and attached to the wall, stood Dean. His eyes were slightly open, a pair of gleaming green in the darkness. They flickered at Sam and Bobby's footsteps until they were directed at Sam.

"Sammy?" A hoarse voice called out.

"Dean." Sam said simply, relieved that his brother was still alive. He walked quickly, closely followed by Bobby who kept a watch for any witches. As Sam reached Dean, he realised just how bad a state Dean was in. He was tied to the wall, hanging by his arms with his feet just barely touching the floor. His wrists were red and bruised from the ropes. His shirt, originally a dark green, was now bloody. Dean himself looked exhausted. His eyes were drooping, and his face was pale in stark contrast to his freckles. He gazed up at Sam, who felt uncertain just how long they had been kept prisoner. Had it only been a few hours? Dean looked like he had been held prisoner for much longer.

"S'mmy." Dean said again, eyes gazing at his younger brother.

"Hey Dean," Sam said quietly with a small smile. He grabbed a pen knife from his pocket and reached up above Dean's head to where his hands were tied.

"Dean, you okay son?" Bobby asked gently. Dean's gaze flickered to Bobby.

"Peachy," he managed to say before erupting into a coughing fit. The harsh cough wracked his weakened body, causing his body to move slightly off the wall.

"Hey, hey Dean. Just breathe. Nice and easy, man," Sam said encouragingly, still cutting the ropes. As the last one was cut, Bobby moved forward to help support Dean, who fell from the sudden release of weight.

"Wow, easy Dean," Bobby said comfortingly, supporting Dean from the front. He had had arms wrapped around Dean, holding him up. Sam quickly helped Dean stand against him, gesturing for Bobby to remove the remaining ropes still tying Dean's hands together. Bobby complied, leaving a weak Dean leaning against Sam. Dean's arms were aching from being tied to the wall for so long, but he didn't complain.

"You okay bro?" Sam asked gently. Dean murmured something unintelligible into Sam's shoulder where his head lay, resting.

"Didn't catch that Dean."

"I said you're becoming a mother goose, Sam," Dean replied groggily.

Sam smiled. "You mean I'm turning into you?"

"Bitch."

"Jerk." The smile in Sam's voice was evident.

Bobby finally finished removing all the rope from Dean's hands.

"Dean, where are the witches?" Bobby asked urgently.

"We're right here," a female voice responded from the dark corner of the room. The three men turned to see four witches emerging from the corner, all wearing the same content smirk.

"Crap," Sam head Bobby mutter.

"Did you boys really think it would be so easy to escape?" The first witch said mockingly. The other witches laughed.

"Why did you let us escape the room then?" Sam challenged, gripping Dean's jacket. The owner of said jacket was still half leaning on Sam, but looked alert.

"Sam. It's called false hope. You two run in here and save Dean, thinking you can get away… only to have your hopes dashed. The look on your faces was priceless," The witch sneered.

"It is time," a new voice suddenly said. The group of witches immediately parted way for one witch who was cloaked in black. Her strides were long as she stepped in front and pushed back the black hood covering her face. Blonde hair tumbled out as she glared at the brothers and Bobby. Next to Sam, Dean stiffened.

"Still recognise me, Dean?" She called out, voice ringing in the small room. Dean glared at her, his eyes green slits.

"How could I forget you?" He hissed. She grinned in return as she approached slowly, her eyes directed at Dean.

"The same goes for you. After that little stunt you pulled in Ohio… well, it's a miracle you made it this long after what you tried to do to me," she said. He looked incredulously at her.

"You were _murdering_ people and you blame _me_ for trying to stop-" his rant was interrupted by another bought of coughing that sent him to his knees.

"Dean?" Sam called worriedly, hands grabbing Dean's jacket. "Dean?"

Dean continued to cough, hunched over. A metallic taste filled his mouth and leaked out. Sam's eyes widened as the red blood spilled over Dean's lips. He grabbed Dean's shoulders, trying to support his brother.

"Dean!"

Dean's lips were tinged blue as he coughed again. More blood flowed over his blue lips as he struggled to breathe, gasping for air between coughs.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as Dean's head dropped to Sam's shoulder, coughing weakly. His breathing was forced and harsh, painfully ripping through his throat, but he was still breathing.

"Dean? Dean, are you alright?" Sam asked frantically, hands flying over his brother's face, brushing against his pale cheeks, cold forehead.

"S'mmy. 'M alright…" Dean murmured weakly, still supported by Sam. He rested his forehead weakly on Sam's shoulder for a moment. Behind Sam, Den saw Bobby gazing worriedly down at him. _You okay boy?_ Bobby's gaze asked. _Fine, Bobby,_ Dean gazed back. However actions were more convincing than words, or in this case gazes. With a silent moan of pain, Dean struggled to his feet, all the while aided by his younger brother. Once he was on his feet, Dean felt slightly better, although his legs were shaking slightly. Preparing himself mentally, he raised his eyes and glared at the witch.

"What do you want?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Yes, it's another update! I finally reached double digits… I'm so proud. Once again I'd like to give all my reviewers a big hug because you guys just make this story worth writing. Thank you. And of course, a massive thank you to The Tribble Master who helps me fix up every chapter and gives me enough confidence to post each one. Thank you!

Without further hesitation, onwards and upwards!

**Previously:**

Once he was on his feet, Dean felt slightly better, although his legs were shaking slightly. Preparing himself mentally, he raised his eyes and glared at the witch.

"What do you want?"

**Chapter 10**

The witch laughed loudly.

"I have what I want, Dean. You're right here with your good-for-nothing brother and uncle. The things I can do to you… you can't even imagine it." She looked at Dean thoughtfully for a moment.

"Or maybe you can?"

Her finger snapped and Dean fell to the floor like a puppet. The only thing that stopped him hitting the ground was Sam, who had dropped to his knees and managed to catch Dean's upper body.

"Dean? Dean?" Sam asked frantically, patting Dean's face, hoping for a reaction. Dean remained still, eyes closed. Sam gazed up at the witches, his eyes wide.

"What did you do to him?" He yelled, heart pounding. The witches all laughed. The leader answered him.

"Dean's just taking a short trip down memory lane, Sammy." She said in a sickly sweet tone.

"It's Sam," Sam growled with clenched teeth. The witch opened her eyes wide.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is only Deanie allowed to call you that?" She said mockingly. Sam began to rise, feeling the fury rage inside him, but was stopped by Bobby.

"Don't give in to her bait, Sam," Bobby said quietly. "We don't know what she's done to Dean." Despite his calm words, Bobby's eyes were filled with anger directed at the coven. Sam let out a quick breath before nodding.

"Yeah."

The witches, realising Sam had cooled down, decided to leave the three for a short while.

"Don't worry, we'll be back," one witch called out as they left. Sam glared at their retreating figures before turning his attention back to Dean.

"Dean? Dean?!"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Something was wrong. Dean had seen this happen, had been here before, but it wasn't right. It hadn't happened like this.

"Sam!" He heard John yell. Sam leapt back as the huge claws of the creature swiped down towards him. Barely missed him. Dean felt his heart leap in his throat as he watched himself- so much younger then- attempt to stab the creature and missed.

"Dad, look out!" He heard himself yell, and spun around to see the creature slam its claws into John. He saw his father's eyes widen for a second before gazing down at his own impaled body.

"Dad!" He dimly heard his younger self and Sam yell, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from his dying father. This was wrong. The creature had missed dad, it hadn't hit him! As he watched, horrified, a trickle of blood slid from John's mouth as his head fell forward and his body turned limp. _Lifeless._

"No! Dad!" Dean yelled but the memory was fading, everything was becoming grey and blurry and-

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Dean!" Sam repeated again, shaking Dean less gently than before. Dean was currently lying on the ground, Sam's jacket lying beneath him. Every so often a whimper would leave his lips and his face would contort slightly. Only one word had left his lips so far, and it was so quiet that Sam had to bend down to hear it.

"Dad."

"Dean, you have to wake up. Can you hear me?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It wasn't right. It didn't happen like this, _it wasn't right_.

"Sam!" Dean heard his younger self yell. They were older now- Dean was about 16, Sam nearly 12. Dean watched as his younger self grabbed Sam's hand, the only thing keeping Sam from falling from the cliff and hitting the bottom.

"I've got you Sammy," younger Dean said, firmly gripping Sam's hand. But as Dean watched, Sam's hand began to slip until-

"Sammy!" Both Dean's cried out as Sam fell to his death hundreds of metres below. Dean reeled back, shocked. No. He had held Sam's hand and pulled him back up. Sam had survived that, he hadn't fallen.

"Sam!" Dean yelled hopelessly, waiting for the call of his younger brother.

It never came.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"…Sam?..."

It was a mumble. So soft Sam nearly missed it. But he heard it.

"Dean? Dean, I'm right here, what's wrong?" Sam asked.

No reply. Dean's breathing was getting faster, his brows furrowed as he saw something only he could see.

"Dean, you have to wake up. Wake up!"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Why do you always treat me like I'm four? I'm an adult now; I'm in charge of my own life!"

"I'm your father, Sam. Or does family not mean anything to you anymore?"

"Of course I care about you guys-"

"And that's why you're running off to college then? Because you care so much about us? God Sam, I didn't know you were that selfish that you could do that to your own kin!"

"You know, any normal parent would be happy I made it to college! But I guess we were never a normal family, were we?" Sam's words hit Dean like a tonne of bricks. Again. Because for once, the memory he saw before him was not tainted, not altered in any way.

He wished it was.

"And to think I used to believe I had a father," Sam said as he strode to the table and grabbed his backpack. He walked angrily to the door and threw it open.

"You walk out that door, don't you ever return." John said, voice filled with fury. Sam just looked back at him before walking out and slamming the door, leaving behind an empty silence.

"Sam," Dean whispered sadly as he let his brother go… Again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam looked on in shock and worry as two tears slid from under Dean's eyelids.

"Dean?" he said quietly. Beside him, Bobby sighed.

"They've cast a spell on him Sam. You heard what that witch said… 'Dean's just taking a short trip down memory lane.' They must have trapped him in his own mind, in his memories." Sam looked up at Bobby, tears pooling in his own eyes.

"But Dean doesn't have any memories that would hurt him..." Sam's voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Everyone gets into hunting somehow. And along the way, you see some pretty horrific things. Dean's had a lot to deal with," Bobby said quietly. But Sam shook his head.

"No. Dean's strong. If he made it through something once, he would make it through again."

"Sam, I don't think-"

"No." Sam was certain, beyond a doubt that Dean could survive his memories. "Whatever they're doing, they're trying to kill him, or at least hurt him really badly. But his memories wouldn't do that. He would wake up from them. He's stronger than you think," Sam insisted.

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked gently. "I know he's your big brother Sam, but remember that he's only human."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean couldn't take it any more. These memories in his head, they were too much. He had watched himself fail to save those he loved over and over again, had seen his family break apart. The one thing that shook him the most was witnessing his mother's death. This time though, he had seen his mother on the ceiling. Watched the flames envelope her, burn her. He had watched her die right in front of him.

He couldn't take it anymore.

It was a different memory now, from when he was only a child. Sam was tucked next to him on the sofa when suddenly there was a knock at the door. The special knock, the knock only dad did. Dean went to open the door with a smile, but was thrown back by a sudden force. The older Dean looked on, his eyes wide. It was meant to be his dad who opened the door.

Instead, a slim figure stepped forward, wearing a dark cloak. She slowly walked towards the young Dean and Sam, who stared at her apprehensively until-

Dean blinked. They were gone. Disappeared into thin air. It was just him and the figure now. He glared at the figure approaching him. As the hood fell, he knew for certain it was her.

"Hey Dean," she said, smirking.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean asked her.

"After Ohio Dean, what did you expect me to do?"

"I didn't manage to kill you!"

"You killed two of my coven," she said, eyes flashing dangerously now. "They were my two favourites. I'm just seeking revenge. Payback, I believe you call it."

"But why here? Why now?"

"Why not now? Everything's going so fine for you now, isn't it? Your father's death seems like such a long time ago, and you and Sammy are getting alone just fine…. What better time to start ruining your life?"

"I'll kill you, I swear," Dean vowed, his own eyes flashing. She just grinned.

"You can try."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Bobby," Sam breathed as he realised something. "What if Dean isn't just seeing his own memories? What if the witches are tampering with them somehow?"

Bobby frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Like, they take a good memory, a memory that isn't bad, and they change it? Manipulate it somehow?"

"Turning his good memories into bad ones," Bobby said slowly, recognition dawning. "Taking the things he cherishes and turning them away. Taking away his hope."

"Exactly." Sam stopped moving suddenly at the change of tone in Bobby's voice.

"What is it?"

"What does Dean value more than anything?" Bobby asked quietly.

"Family," Sam replied instantaneously, not even stopping to think. "Oh…"

"You and your daddy both left Dean," Bobby said, words like a knife against Sam's heart. "The both of you, you treat Dean like he's dirt sometimes. You both just come wondering in and out of his life, expecting him to be there, relying on him. I know you don't mean to," Bobby continued, seeing Sam's mouth open in response. "But it leaves a mark on him, and you can bet the witches will use that against him."

"I…" Sam could think of nothing to say. Nothing to disprove Bobby, and that fact alone nearly killed him. Both he and his father had spent their lived expecting Dean to be the rock of the family, the one they could always go back to if things got bad. Never thinking about the effect it had on Dean. Forgetting that he was a person with his own dreams and fears.

Sam looked up at Bobby with tears in his eyes.

"I- I didn't realise-" he stumbled, choking on his words. Bobby gently gripped his shoulder.

"I know Sam. I know both you and your daddy didn't do it intentionally. And I'm pretty sure Dean knows that too," Bobby continued comfortingly.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Dad?" Dean called out into the seemingly empty room. Laying the steaming cups of coffee on the table, Dean ventured further into the room.

"Dad?"

He frowned, hand moving to his pocket where his gun was. His father had been here when he had left, having just woken up. So where was he?

Dean checked the whole room, looking for any sign of a disturbance, a struggle, a fight. There was nothing. Not even a note.

"What the hell?" Dean mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed. It was then he realised the most important thing he had overlooked.

His father's bag was gone.

His duffle bag, filled with his clothes and other various possessions. Dean quickly walked over to his father's bed and checked under the pillow.

The journal was gone.

Dean reeled back, shocked. His father had left him. His eyes flashed over to the weapons bag. Yanking the zip, opening the bag to find his father's favourite gun was gone.

Dean stood slowly, his mind going into shock. His father had left him. No reason, no note, nothing. Just gone.

_Like Sammy_, Dean thought mind flashing back to his younger brother and his departure four years previously. In Dean's heart, he knew the truth. Everyone left him. His mother, Sammy, and now dad. He realized how easily it was for people to forget him, and move on.

_Sammy. I'll go get Sammy. He'll help me find Dad_, Dean thought, mind still in a haze as he threw his possessions unceremoniously into his bag. _Sammy will know what to do_, Dean thought. He ignored the fact that his brother hadn't spoken to either of them in well over two years and probably didn't care about his family.

_Sammy will help._


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Presenting chapter 11! Before you guys start reading, I just have to say a big thanks to everyone who's put this on story alert or on their favourites list. I go around grinning for hours every time that happens. And a great big whopping thanks to all my reviewers and my perfect beta The Tribble Master. Now, enough from me. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 11**

The room was silent; it had been for awhile. Both Sam and Bobby were seated, staring at Dean, the wall, Dean, the floor, Dean, and then the door again. Sam finally let out a sigh, breaking the silence.

"Bobby? Here's a question. How do you wake someone who's trapped in their own mind?" Sam finally asked. The question had been lingering in his mind for awhile, but no matter what he did he could think of no answer.

Bobby sighed in reply.

"I don't know, Sam. I've thought about what I've seen before, but there's nothing. I mean, there are spells, and herbs… but a fat lot of good they do now."

"So we got nothing then," Sam said despondently. Bobby looked sideways at him.

"Well, there is one way." Sam looked up, face hopeful.

"What?"

"We could always kill the witches."

Sam just stared at Bobby.

"Oh, that's a brilliant plan. Just one little issue… how the hell do we kill a witch?!"

"A witch is human, Sam. A twisted human, but still a human. Ordinary bullets aught to stop them."

Sam had just begun to feel the hope rise in him when it was hit back by what felt like a tonne of bricks.

"They took all our weapons. I don't know where, but I'm guessing they're not just lying about."

"Okay, so then I'll go get them," Bobby said, rising to his feet. Sam stood up as well.

"By yourself? Bobby, there are about 5 witches out there. You're unarmed. What are you going to do if they catch you?"

"Sam, there isn't really any other option here. We can't leave Dean by himself, and we can't both just sit here waiting for God-knows-what. I'll just have to watch my own back."

"How do you plan on getting out of the room?" Sam finally asked. Bobby shrugged.

"I'm still working on it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Ohio.

September, 2001.

"Deean," a voice called mockingly behind him. He spun around in the dark tunnel, gun gripped tightly.

"Deean," The voice called again, a hint of amusement now present.

Dean took a step forward towards the voice. He raised the gun in the general direction where the voice was coming from.

"Are you going to shoot me?" The voice asked, sounding both vulnerable and mocking.

"What do you want?" Dean finally asked, gun still held in front of him.

"You're the one who came here. What do _you_ want?" The voice asked.

"Hey, I asked you first."

"How mature of you."

Dean snorted.

"Well, you've been killing people, and I don't like witches who kill people. Actually, I don't like any witches…"

"So you've come to stop _us_. How… noble." The last word came out as a whisper, and Dean felt his inner danger-alert rise. Hearing a noise behind him, he spun around only to realise he was surrounded by 4 figures. He turned around again to find one more standing in front of him. It was the figure who had been talking. Her hood covered most of her face, but he could still sense that she was smiling.

"But you see Dean, we don't like noble people. Especially when they come to kill us," she said, walking forward. Towards him. He aimed the gun at her.

"Don't come any closer."

"I don't have to," she said, a grin appearing on her face. She raised her hand and began a chant. Her voice echoed in the tunnel, growing louder. Dean felt his mind begin to grow hazy, and his body go slack. He could dimly feel his gun drop from his finger before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he felt nothing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam looked down as Dean let out a barely audible moan. He gazed up at Bobby, who was examining the door.

"Bobby, you got anything?"

Bobby turned to face him, his mouth forming a slight frown.

"It's locked with magic. There's no visible lock, but it won't open."

"So no picking the lock then," Sam sighed.

"Which means I'll have to use plan B," Bobby said. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"What's plan B?"

"Play along."

Bobby knocked frantically on the large door.

"Open up! OPEN UP!!!" He yelled. Sam watched with his eyes wide.

"What is it?" A silky voice called from the other side.

"Dean's dying. He stopped breathing, we need help!"

"Already? Oh great, she's going to be mad," the voice said to itself. "Okay, step back, I'm opening the door. And don't try any funny business."

The door slid open and a lithe figure stepped into the room. Her eyes focused on Sam and Dean, lying on the opposite end of the room. Sam's eyes were wide as he gazed down at his 'dying' brother.

"Dean, wake up!" He yelled, grabbing Dean's shirt.

"Where's-" The witch began to ask but was interrupted when Bobby punched her in the face. Hard.

"She's down," Bobby said, turning to face Sam. "That was easier than I expected."

"Well, it's like you said. She's still a human." Sam replied. He gently released Dean's shirt from his grasp.

"That was a smart plan, Bobby, but that's only one witch. What about the others?"

"I'll figure it out, Sam. Don't you start worrying about me. Your brother needs you more." Bobby turned to leave, but then stopped.

"You two take care, alright?" Bobby said gruffly. Sam smiled sadly.

"Yeah. You too Bobby. Be careful."

Bobby nodded and then walked out the door, closing it behind him, leaving Sam with two unconscious bodies. He gazed at Dean, and then the witch.

"Well, this should be fun."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean woke up to find himself tied to a board. There were ropes around his wrists and ankles, restricting his movements. In the dimly lit room, he could make out three figures standing near him, all wearing cloaks.

"Ah ladies," he said, grinning.

"You're finally awake then," the nearest witch replied.

"Hey hun, you don't hurry perfection," Dean said, smirking.

"Dean Winchester. Ever so witty and apparently good with the ladies," she said in a scathing tone.

"Don't you know it." He shot back.

"Enough chit chat. We brought you here for a reason."

"Look, I get it. You guys have the hots for me, I understand. But really, tying up a guy and taking him back to your creepy lair… well, it's not the best idea."

"Oh really? Well, I think I know a worse idea. Coming in half cocked to confront a group of witches… and getting captured," the witch replied. Dean tilted his head.

"Touché."

"But we'll forgive you. And to show you our appreciation for your stupidity, we've decided to have a little… fun." All three witches began moving forward, very slowly. Dean then realised they were each clutching a knife.

"Wow, ladies. Coming on a bit strong, aren't we?" Dean said, eyeing the knives apprehensively.

"Too fast for you Dean?" One witch asked, caressing his cheek with her free hand.

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could just talk first," Dean laughed nervously, his hands struggling to untie his bonds.

"We're more action girls. Speaking of action…" the first witch pressed her knife against Dean's side. He hissed in pain as he felt the blade cut his skin. The witch pulled the blade away from his body and lifted it so the others witches could see.

"And now we can begin," she said to Dean, a sadistic smile on her face.

Dean's eyes widened as the three witches hovered over him. One pressed the palm of her hand against Dean's forehead, and he heard a strange buzzing noise before everything went black.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam looked up at a slight moan. The witch on the floor was beginning to stir, her face scrunched. Sam quickly rose and approached her. Her eyes flickered open for a second and focused on Sam.

"What-" she was interrupted again by Sam punching her.

"And she's out," Sam murmured to himself before walking back to Dean. His older brother was still lying motionless on the ground. Sam quickly checked Dean's recent injury, and was glad to see there wasn't too much blood.

"Dean, man, you gotta wake up soon," Sam said to the unconscious figure.

"Please Dean."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean stirred, feeling intense pain throughout his body.

"Huh? Whazzhappenin'?" He managed to say before the pain really hit him.

"Ow…."

"Dean, you're finally awake. We've been waiting a long time."

It was the first witch he had spoken to, the leader of the coven.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Dean asked, voice ragged. Glancing down, he could see his shirt and pants were covered in blood. _That would explain the pain, idiot_, he though to himself.

"We were just having a little fun," the witch said smoothly. Dean just stared at her.

"Pretty sadistic fun," he muttered. The witch laughed.

"Well, we did have an ulterior motive. You see, we know a spell. It's very interesting…. And we want you to be a part of it."

"I'm touched," Dean said sarcastically.

"But you see we needed some of your blood." Dean looked down at himself.

"What, like half a gallon or something?"

"No silly… that's where the fun came in. You're so entertaining to injure…"

"You guys are crazy."

"Maybe. I guess you'll never know." The witch stared at him for a second before pressing her lips against his. Dean squirmed, but his restraints prevented him from doing anything. She parted from him, eyes gleaming.

"Great, now I feel violated," Dean said. She just laughed before leaving the room, followed by one of the witches. The remaining one stood nearby, obviously with the intent of guarding Dean.

Dean looked around the room, observing his surroundings. It was mainly bare, although there was a table nearby. On it stood various symbols, and in the centre was a silver bowl containing what Dean assumed was his blood. He then noticed that there was a knife lying very close to him, left by one of the witches. Dry blood was crusted on the edge.

"Hey. Hey, you."

The witch turned to him.

"What?"

"Listen, my arms are really sore. Do you reckon you could untie me for a bit?" Dean asked, putting in a pleading voice. The witch laughed.

"What, you think this is a five star hotel or something? I'm not a servant, and there's no way I'm easing you discomfort."

"You really are bitchy, you know that?" The witch walked over until her face was directly in front of Dean's.

"I'd watch what I say if I were you." Dean just smiled sweetly at her.

"But you're not me, are you? If you were me, you would know to check your prisoner's binds"- he kicked her with his now free leg- "to make sure he couldn't escape." A knee to the stomach, a kick to the face, and she was down. Dean looked thankfully at the sharp edge of the board where he had been rubbing his roped leg against. He took off his shoe against the board, and using his socked toes managed to move the knife to the appropriate angle for him to flip it up, catching it with his right hand. From there he cut himself loose and dropped ungracefully to the ground.

"Sonofabitch" he groaned, crouched on the ground in pain. Dean struggled upright, put on his shoe, and staggered over to the witch, stabbing her a few times to make sure she was dead. He then looked at the room again, searching for an exit. There was only one door.

"Looks like I'm going this way then" he murmured before hesitantly opening the door. He winced as it creaked loudly.

"Hannah? Is everything okay?" He suddenly heard one of the witches call. Her footsteps approached rapidly as he hid behind the door, body tense and knife ready. The witch stepped through the door and glanced down at the dead body.

"Oh-" she began but was cut off when Dean stabbed her in the side repeatedly. She fell to the ground, dead. Dean looked down at the two witches before slipping out the door, closing it firmly behind him. He staggered down the dark hall towards the mind was growing fuzzy with each step as the effects of blood loss took hold.

He eventually found his way out, and surprisingly he hadn't run into any other witches. The light from outside beamed at him, welcoming him with open arms. He staggered forward and then stopped as a figure appeared in front of him.

"Hi Dean," the witch said. Dean gaped at her.

"No. No, I made it out of this. You're not supposed to be here."

"I think someone's tampered with your mind. You never made it out of here. How could you?" She stepped closer.

"How could a weak man armed with a pathetic knife escape a coven of witches?" Her voice sounded dangerous, almost threatening. She then smiled sweetly.

"Looks like you're stuck."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam looked up as he heard footsteps approaching. Tensing, he quickly placed himself in front of Dean's unconscious body. The footsteps slowed as they reached the door. Sam held his breath. The door opened to reveal-

"Bobby!" Sam exclaimed. Bobby stood before him, arms loaded with their weapons.

"How did you get all this?" Sam asked, grabbing a few things from Bobby's arms.

"Wasn't easy. I nearly got caught a few times, but I managed to evade them" Bobby said, pocketing a gun and grabbing another. Sam did the same.

"Any changes?" Bobby asked, gesturing towards Dean.

"None. He hasn't done anything… Bobby, I think we're losing him," Sam said worriedly.

"Then we better kill them witches damn quick," Bobby said gruffly. Sam nodded.

"Got a plan?"

"Not yet."

"I do," Sam said, eyes gleaming.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N- **Ok, I know it's been a while, but in my defence I had a major writers block. Hope you guys are still interested in finding out what happens to our boys! Big thank you to all reviewers, readers and a special thanks to my beta The Tribble Master who made this chapter understandable. On with the chapter!

**Chapter 12**

Previously:

"_Bobby, I think we're losing him," Sam said worriedly._

"_Then we better kill them witches damn quick," Bobby said gruffly. Sam nodded. _

"_Got a plan?"_

"_Not yet."_

"_I do," Sam said, eyes gleaming._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Alright, spill."

"Charge in, guns blazing."

Bobby stared at Sam in disbelief.

"_That's_ your plan?"

Sam nodded.

"Boy, are you trying to get us killed? No… there is another way. We go in stealthily. Kill them one by one."

"Bobby, we don't have time for that," Sam protested vehemently. "Dean's not going to last much longer. We need to stop the witches _now_."

"It won't help Dean if we're lying somewhere dead either!" Bobby shot back. He stepped closer to Sam, eyes flashing. He gripped Sam's shirt.

"Look, I know you're worried about your brother. I am too. But we have to think smart about this, Sam. We go charging in, they'll kill us. You wanna save your brother? You're going to have to survive this first."

Sam pulled himself free of Bobby's grasp and turned away, facing Dean. His eyes widened as he saw his brother move slightly.

"Dean?" He asked, kneeling next to Dean. To his amazement, Dean's eyelids flickered open for a second. The green orbs looked at him dazedly.

"Sammy?" The word came out in a breath before Dean's eyelids closed again and he became motionless. Sam grabbed Dean's shirt.

"No, no Dean, come back! Wake up Dean!" Sam was nearly shouting, tears filling his eyes. Dean merely flopped at his movements, once again unconscious. Sam turned to face Bobby.

"Bobby, did you-" It was then he noticed they were not alone in the room. Two more witches had entered and had the remaining weapons in their grasp. Bobby had his gun aimed at one of the witches, who had her own weapon aimed at him. Sam glanced at the barrel pointed his way before looking up at the witch holding her gun at him.

"Well, this is nice," he said sarcastically before whipping his own gun out of his pocket and aiming it at the witch. To his surprise, the other witch aimed her gun at him too, leaving Bobby unguarded.

"Bobby!" Sam said loudly, urging the older hunter on. To his surprise, Bobby did nothing. Then he began to turn slowly until his gun was pointed directly at Sam.

"Bobby?" Sam asked apprehensively, standing protectively in front of Dean. Bobby stared eerily at him before grinning.

"Wrong," he said jovially. His features then began to distort and change, Sam looked away, the site making his feel queasy. He finally looked back to see the leader of the coven standing in Bobby's place. She had a victorious look on her face as she stared at the brothers.

"Howdy, _Sammy_," she said flirtatiously. Sam glared at her.

"Where's Bobby? What have you done with him?"

The witch held up her right hand and beckoned to something outside the room. Pulled by invisible strings, an unconscious floating figure glided into the room. Sam stared, shocked.

"Bobby?"

There was no reply except for laughter amongst the witches. Sam felt fury blaze through him.

"You _bitch_, let him go!"

The witch looked at him, offended.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I hold the life of you, your brother and your friend. If you had an ounce of sense, you'd be begging me to treat them with care." She hissed. Sam glared back but did not speak. Behind him, Dean let out a soft groan. The witch's eyes flickered to the still figure.

"Darling Dean is still asleep, I see?' She said gleefully.

"Why are you doing this to him?" Sam asked her. She just shook her head.

"You'll have to ask him. Oh wait, you won't have the chance. He won't wake up."

Suddenly, Dean shifted, his head turned and his face twisted into an expression of discomfort. Sam turned around, eyes wide. Once again Dean's eyelids flickered before opening completely. Dean stared up at Sam, who was staring down in amazement.

"Dean?" Sam said in surprise. Inside, a small part of him was grinning at Dean's choice of timing to wake up. _Trust Dean to be stubborn enough to beat the powers of a witch_, he thought happily. Dean looked at him, confused.

"Sammy?" He asked hoarsely before raising a hand to his head. Both he and Sam turned around as the witch gasped in disbelief. She closed her eyes and raised a hand calmly to her head. Sam turned around yet again as Dean suddenly moaned before his eyes closed.

"What-" Sam began but then stopped. The remaining two witches stared in disbelief. They watched in fascinated horror at the looks of concentration that passed between Dean and their leader. Sam quickly knelt beside Dean, hand resting on his tense shoulder. He didn't understand exactly what was happening, but he could guess that Dean and the witch were fighting for control in Dean's head.

Sam glared at the witch before he turned to Dean.

"Dean, you can do this. I'm right beside you, okay? I'm right here."

Dean groaned as his mind was taken back to memories from only a few days back…

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean walked out of the bar, hands in pockets. He grinned at a cute girl walking in, who shyly grinned back before ducking her head, the blush on her cheek evident. Dean considered going back into the bar, but then decided not to. He wasn't in the mood really, all he wanted to do was go back to the motel and just relax with Sam. Before he could take a step further however a figure appeared in front of him. Dean raised an eyebrow at the hooded figure before his mind had a flashback to a few years earlier.

Eyes widened, Dean took a step back and his hand slipped into his pocket for his gun. He groped around, but it wasn't there. The witch laughed before holding up his precious weapon in her hand.

"Looking for this?" She asked silkily. Dean glared at her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"After you left so quickly, well, I can hardly just let you live, can I?"

"I'll kill you, I swear," he began, but was cut off.

"Your brother's here too, isn't he?" The witch asked. Dean looked up, a trace of fear on his face.

"Don't you touch him," he warned. The witch just laughed.

"Oh don't worry; he's not our main priority at the moment. That honour goes to you." Dean opened his mouth to say something but was prevented as a hand from behind him touched his forehead, sending his mind into a dark abyss.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean felt himself awaken, his eyelids feeling like a ton of bricks. He shifted slightly, wincing at his stiff muscles. Through the haze he heard a voice calling his name, and he immediately knew it was Sam. Struggling to push away the darkness threatening to surround him, Dean forced his eyes open.

Kneeling beside him was Sam, who was wearing a look of both surprise and joy.

"Sammy?" Dean managed to get out before the threatening darkness overtook his mind, leaving him feeling nothing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean woke up, groaning as he felt straps pulled against his skin. A movement to his left caused him to look up to see the witch and all her cronies.

"You've been out for ages," the witch began, looking down at him. "Nearly two days, we were starting to get worried."

"Oh, because I'm sure my welfare is your biggest concern," Dean replied. The witch merely smiled.

"This seems very familiar," Dean said in a conversational tone, gesturing with his head towards their predicament. The witch smiled dangerously.

"Oh yes, the pain should feel very familiar too," she said before stabbing him in the side with a large knife. A muffled groan of pain left Dean's lips before he could stop it. The witch sniffed deeply, almost as if she could smell Dean's pain. Dean just looked at her strangely.

"You need a hanky or something?" He asked through clenched teeth, the knife digging deeper into his side.

"No, I'm good. Not sure about you though," she said before yanking the knife out of him. Dean yelped before trying to curl up on himself, but the restraints prevented this.

"What the hell is wrong with you witches?" Dean asked furiously. The witch looked at him, a convincing look of surprise on her face.

"Why Dean, we only want your blood," she said. She handed the dripping knife to one of the other witches, who turned and walked out of the room, carrying it as if it were a great prize.

"Well go get someone else's. I like my blood," Dean said.

"Funny. But we need your blood specifically."

"Why?"

The witched sighed dramatically.

"So many questions, so little time. I'm afraid you're going to be out of it for a while, Dean. But don't worry… we'll see you again," she said, a smile playing on her lips. Dean frowned before she raised a hand and he once again fell unconscious.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean could feel it. The hold the witch had over him was weakening. The darkness that had been surrounding him for so long, the memories that had been haunting him, they were finally gone. All that remained in front of his eyes now was his eyelids.

He turned his head, eyelids still closed, trying to determine his surroundings. It was cold… very cold. He could sense there were quite a few people in the room, but was Sam one of them? Dean decided to open his eyes and take a look. Sam was standing in front of him, blocking his view of the room.

"Dean?" He asked, surprised. A grin appeared on his face.

"Sammy?" Dean asked wearily, holding a hand to his aching head. He heard a gasp coming from beyond Sam, on the other side of the room. He began to peer past Sam's legs, but was stopped as a blinding pain hit him hard. His eyes shut for a moment, trying to stop the pain. When he opened them however, he wasn't in the room anymore. He was standing on… well, nothing. All around him was the colour grey, which filled his vision.

He turned and saw the witch standing near him, her eyes furious.

"How did you do it?" She hissed, advancing on him. Dean began to back away when he heard Sam's voice, from far away.

"Dean, you can do this. I'm right beside you, okay? I'm right here."

"Sammy?" Dean asked in wonderment. He had no idea where the voice was coming from but it filled him with hope and courage. Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face the witch, his head lowered. She stopped a few metres away from him, still fuming.

"You can't escape from my power. I'm a _witch_. I have power over you and all other pathetic humans. You cannot break away from my grasp." She said. Dean could hear the denial in her voice, her desperate attempt to reason with herself.

"Looks like I did, lady. And I'll do it again."

"No you won't," she said furiously. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Just watch me."

.:To Be Continued:.


	13. The Devil Is In The Details

**A/N: **It's a miracle, I actually managed to update in less than a week! Thanks to everyone who put this on story alert, favourites list, or my personal favourite: reviewed. I love you guys. I also bow down before The Tribble Master; my beta who helped me so much with this chapter as well as helped me rid myself of writers block. Onwards and upwards!

**Chapter 13: The Devil Is In The Details**

Simple things really, that's all they were at first.

An A on her math test, a date to home coming, captain of the cheer squad.

Nothing harmful, but just enough to make her happy.

She grew older, but the magic never left.

It started to play a more prominent role in her life. A sacrificed dog gave her ownership of a spell book she desperately needed. A few stray orphans helped her gain access to a building that later became her base of operation. Finally a powerful spell that led her to her fellow sorceresses.

Isabella was a witch to her very core, and this last spell would be her piece de resistance.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The room was tense. Sam stood on one side of the room with his gun grasped firmly in his right hand. The two witches stood on the other side, with Bobby eerily floating beside them and the unconscious witch lying nearby. However no-one made any move to attack. Instead, their attention was focused on two figures in the room.

The witch and Dean.

The two were apparently locked in some kind of mental combat. Both wore expressions of intense concentration, and Sam could see the determination on Dean's face. Without warning, the witch's eyelids shot open, revealing a blinding light emanating from her pupils. Her minions let out a collective gasp of surprise and backed away from her. Sam looked at her worriedly before turning his gaze back to Dean, who groaned and twisted slightly in discomfort.

"Dean? What is it? What's happening?" Sam asked urgently. Behind him, the witch let out a moan and fell to her knees.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dean took a step back, blinking.

How the hell did he end up in a library?

Shelves towered above him, loaded with books. Dean looked around, confused, before ducking behind the nearest shelf. He peered around the corner, but could see nobody of any threat. Frowning, he turned back around to find a teenager seated at a nearby table. She was crying softly, her shoulders shaking and her head buried in her arms. All Dean could see was her blonde hair.

A man suddenly appeared around the corner. Dean backed against the shelf, but the man walked right past him, as if Dean were a ghost. He walked up to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Isabella! My dear, why are you crying?"

The girl raised her head and Dean felt a cold chill run down his spine. The features, the cold eyes… It was the witch. There was no mistaking her.

"Oh it's nothing. Just something silly," She said, attempting to smile as she wiped her eyes. The man, evidently the librarian, just looked at her, waiting for a proper reply. She sighed.

"Roger dumped me. On our six month anniversary!" Her eyes filled with tears again. The librarian looked a bit awkward.

"Errr yes, well… Don't fret about it. He obviously wasn't good enough for you. There will be other boys." He patted her shoulder awkwardly. Dean barely contained his laughter. Although the librarian had good intentions, he was clearly inexperienced with the teenager love life. Isabella looked up, smiling through her tears.

"You always make me feel better. Thank you Giles."

"Not a problem, Isabella." The librarian said, walking off. Dean stared after him. Isabella scraped her chair back and stood to go. Suddenly, a pile of teetering books on a high shelf fell down in front of her. She gasped before shaking her head and bending over to pick them up. Dean watched as she put them all away except one. It was a thick book, old and apparently hardly read. Isabella frowned as she looked at it. She looked around cautiously before opening the book and reading the title.

"The Mystic World?" She said sceptically. However despite this she kept a hold of it, flipping through the book.

"Isabella?" A voice called. Isabella looked up, shocked. The voice called again. Isabella quickly shoved the book into her school bag before turning to face the newest occupant of the library.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" The new girl gushed. "I heard what happened with Roger… I can't believe he's such a jerk!"

The two girls walked out of the library talking excitedly, leaving Dean standing there, at a loss to what he should do. Follow the teen Isabella? Or just stay here and wait for the memory to die.

He suddenly tensed as he noticed another figure standing near him. He turned his head slightly in the direction before his eyes widened.

"Get out of my head!" The older Isabella screeched, throwing herself at Dean. He quickly moved backwards, out of her reach. She flew at him again, hand outstretched. A bright light was pouring out of her eyes, nearly blinding him. Dean ducked, and was sure he could feel a powerful force brush over him.

A near miss.

Isabella lunged again and grabbed tightly onto his arm. He swung her around, propelling both of them into a nearby shelf. She slammed into the wood hard and let go of his arm with a moan before falling to her knees. Dean ran to the next row of shelves, looking for a weapon, any weapon.

_You idiot_, he thought. _This is a library. The only thing in here is books_. An outraged cry disrupted his thoughts as Isabella once again flew at him. Dean grabbed her and the two wrestled until Dean felt himself slam into a bookshelf. His eyes automatically closed as his head hit the shelf hard and he felt the pain rocket through his head.

Dean winced, waiting for Isabella to hit him, or attack him with a spell. To his surprise, nothing happened. He tensed, opening one eyelid, then the other. He was no longer in the library surrounded by books. Instead Dean found himself standing in a dark corridor. His nose prickled as a strange smell floated before him. Frowning, he gazed around the room, knowing it felt familiar but not sure why. It finally hit him. It was the room he had been taken to on his first encounter with the witches. Shifting his weight slightly, Dean moved closer to the inhabitants of the room.

There in the middle stood Isabella. She was older now; much closer to the age she was when Dean would first encounter her. There were six other witches with her, all standing beside her faithfully. She was observing them as a picky customer observes the items they want; looking for faults and any reason not to buy. Isabella was glancing at each witch, scrutinising their appearance and in some cases their magic.

She finally nodded, apparently satisfied. She took a step back and pointed her finger at one witch in particular. The witch stepped forward, looking miffed that she had been selected to bear the brunt of their leaders scorn. Isabella said nothing but continued to point. An unearthly sound escaped the witch's lips as he body began to shrivel, a bright light coming from within. It was almost as if she was burning from the inside. Dean clasped his hands over his ears, desperately trying to block out the screams. Finally, all that was left of the witch was a few clumps of her blonde hair lying on the floor.

The other witches all stepped back slightly from the remains, their expressions one of horror and fear. They all turned to look up at.

"She would never fit in. I could see in her mind that she planned to take over this coven. Thus she met her demise."

The other witches seemed to find this answer reasonable. They all nodded and one stepped out. Dean recognised her as Hannah, one of the witches he would later kill.

"Isabella, shouldn't you take one more witch? After all, seven is said to be a magical number." She said. Isabella smiled.

"Seven may be lucky for some, but six is lucky for my coven." Hannah nodded and stepped back. Isabella turned to face all the witches.

"Now, let us go and discuss our future. I have big plans for this coven."

The witches all left, Isabella included. Dean stepped forward tentatively, keeping a look out for the Isabella from his time. He saw a flash of blonde hair across the room and quickly ducked behind a pillar. He looked in horror at where he had been standing, which was now a burning pit of coal.

"How are you doing this?" He heard Isabella scream. He peeped around his pillar.

"How did you get in my head? You don't have the power to do this!" She was screaming desperately now. He could sense she was losing control as her plan unravelled before her.

"Come out and fight!" She yelled. Dean scoffed.

"That would be an even fight seeing as you're a _witch_!" He yelled back. She fell silent for a second. Dean peeked around the pillar again but couldn't see her. He turned around- and she was right behind him. Dean yelped and leapt back. She followed him, her face twisted into an expression of rage.

"You will die." She said before raising her hand and clenching her fist. Dean's hand flew to his throat, where an invisible force was crushing his windpipes. Coughing and hacking, he fell to his knees, struggling to breathe. She stood before him, just out of reach.

"What about your spell?" Dean asked between gasps.

"I only need your blood. There will be plenty of that even when you're dead. Fresh blood is better, but I'm not taking any chances with you." She hissed, clenching her fist tighter. Dean struggled, almost certain his bones were going to break in a second. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to end.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam had been worried enough and then Dean had started coughing harshly. The sudden noise had nearly given him a heart attack.

"Dean?" Sam called, watching in fear as Dean raised a weak hand to his throat as though trying to force off some pressure.

"Dean, just breathe!" Sam said desperately, watching his brother die before him. He stood and turned around, gun pointing at the two witches. The both shrieked and raised their hands.

"Stop it!" He yelled at them. "Stop doing this to him!"

"We're not doing anything!" One of the witches protested. Her voice was high. The two witches were lost without their leader, who was still kneeling on the floor.

"Then make her stop!" Sam roared, gesturing to the kneeling witch. The witches feared their leader more than death and neither moved. Sam snapped. He raised the gun and fired it at one of the witches. She fell back with a little gasp. Her hands scrambled to stop the blood escaping the bullet wound over her chest. The other witch dropped to her side.

"Abby!" She said desperately. Abby choked, convulsed, and then stopped moving. The other witch began moaning. Sam shuddered at the noise, and at the fact that he had killed a human. Whatever he had said previously, it still felt wrong to kill these witches.

Behind him, Dean suddenly stopped choking and Sam feared the worst.

"Dean?" He cried out, dropping to his knees beside his older brother's body. To his surprise, Dean had begun to breathe normally, if somewhat more painfully than before. Sam let out a sigh of relief and relaxed his shoulders as he sat beside Dean. The moans of the other witch still echoed through the room.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

They both knew something had happened in the real world.

Dean had opened his eyes to find himself standing in the same room where he had been kept during his first encounter with the witches. The same board was there, the same table with the silver bowl and the knife. Dean shuddered at the sight. Isabella stood next to him, but before either of them could move, a gunshot rang out. It wasn't from within the memory, but from somewhere else.

Dean turned to face Isabella, who stood still, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"He killed her," she whispered. Dean looked around, confused.

"Who killed who?"

She turned to face him. "Your brother. He killed her….. My Abby. He killed her."

Dean didn't plan on apologising to her after everything she had put him through. Suddenly an unearthly moan echoed around the room much like the gunshot had. Dean shuddered at the sound.

The door to the room suddenly opened and in entered Isabella and her five other witches. Behind them hovered an unconscious teenage female, her head lolled forward so her black hair covered her face. They strapped her to the board and stood by, waiting for her to awake.

"She was our first victim," Isabella said beside him. Dean turned to look at her, confused.

"What?"

"She was the first one." It was then that Dean recognised her from the missing profile. Kellie Heartwood, age 17.

The two stood in silence, watching the other witches who were still waiting. Finally Kelly began to open her eyelids. She moaned and tried to move, but the restraints prevented her from doing so.

"What are you doing?" She called out in a panicked voice. "Let me go!" She struggled, but to no avail. Dean tensed, feeling the urge to help her.

"Now, now, don't scream. There's nothing you can do." The Isabella from that time cooed. Kelly gasped, still struggling.

"Let me go!" She screamed. The witches all laughed.

"You're going to die," One of them told her. She screamed and started crying.

"Why me? Please, don't do this, please!" The witches just laughed until Hannah pressed the knife into Kellie's shoulder. The girl screamed. Kellie pulled the blade out and showed the other's the blood. The all grinned at each other before turning to Isabella. She smiled at them before grabbing the blade and stabbing it into Kellie's heart. Dean turned away, sickened by the sight. The Isabella beside him sighed.

"How can you just slaughter innocent people like that? She was 17 years old," Dean said angrily. Isabella glanced at him.

"I needed her for my plan."

"Why her? Why specifically her?"

Isabella shrugged. "My magic chooses for me. It chose her just like it chose you." Her expression darkened. "That choice was a mistake. You ruined my plans." She began advancing on him. Behind her, the room disappeared and they were back in the solid grey room with no escape.

"You killed my coven and you ruined my plan. My spell to make everything better." Isabella growled. Dean backed away.

"Six people. I needed the blood of six people as the main ingredient. You were the sixth."

"But you got my blood," Dean protested. Isabella scoffed.

"Not enough! The amount we need is large. More than half the blood in the body. What we took from you was only a small sample. And then you escaped, leaving us stuck. It had to be you. It always had to be you."

The two were circling each other now, keeping a weary eye out for any attacks.

"So I tracked you down. You killed two of my coven and I was mad. I wanted revenge, I wanted payback. I wanted you to feel pain. A very human concept, don't you agree?"

She danced around him, her fury increasing the tempo. "I kidnapped you and got some more of your blood. Then I returned you back to your brother. I knew you would come and hunt me down, just like I know that your biggest weakness is those you love. Your _precious_ family. What better way to bring you down than to have them suffer?"

Den shook his head, trying to absorb all the information.

"What is this plan? Why do you need so much blood? Why is it my blood?"

"Blood is the key to it all. Blood can create… or destroy." Isabella asked. Her change in tone alerted Dean that any humanity she had revisited in the past few minutes had gone, leaving her once a dangerous witch. "I think you'll find that what this world needs is a brand new fresh start."

Before Dean could do anything however, the greyness around him disappeared, leading him once more into one of Isabella's memories. He looked on in horror as the memory unravelled before him and he began to yell.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sam was still slumped over, his head resting in his hands. The witch had not stopped moaning, and Sam could feel a headache coming on. All of a sudden he felt movement behind him. Whirling around, he saw Dean awake and looking horrified. Dean stood up and backed away from Sam, his face one of disbelief.

"No. You can't….You _can't_…. It doesn't work like that. You… why?" He asked, voice shaking. It was then that Sam realised Dean wasn't talking to him but rather talking to someone behind him. Turning around slowly, he found himself gazing at the figure of Isabella, who was very much awake.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **I'm alive! And incredibly sorry for taking such a long time to update! It's inexcusable, but my inspiration locked itself in a room and wouldn't let me in until a few days ago. I hope you guys are still interested in reading this and reviews would be _deeply_ appreciated. Massive thanks to my beta The Tribble Master! Sorry the recap is so long, but I doubt anyone remembers the story, so here goes...

**Recap:**

"_Ok, you can go, but I want you back here in 2 days for another check up. And no hunting for you," Dr. Terrence added sternly to Dean._

"_Whoever the witches are, they're using a really malevolent form of magic called seiðr. It robs its victims of their sanity, health, and eventually their lives."_

"_Why do you hate witches so much Dean? I mean, I know why, but… you really seem to dislike them."_

"_Just this hunt in Ohio with a witch… didn't go that well."_

"_Did you kill the witch?"_

"_No. She got away."_

"_What did you do to him?" Sam yelled._

"_Dean's just taking a short trip down memory lane, Sammy." Isabella said. _

"_Bobby? Here's a question. How do you wake someone who's trapped in their own mind?" _

"_We could always kill the witches." Bobby suggested._

"_You ruined my plan. My spell to make everything better. Six people. I needed the blood of six people as the main ingredient. You are the sixth."_

"_Blood is the key to it all. Blood can create… or destroy." Isabella said._

_**Previously:**_

_Sam was still slumped over, his head resting in his hands. All of a sudden he felt movement behind him. Whirling around, he saw Dean awake and looking horrified. Dean stood up and backed away from Sam, his face one of disbelief. _

"_No. You can't….You can't…. It doesn't work like that. You… why?" He asked, voice shaking. It was then that Sam realised Dean wasn't talking to him but rather talking to someone behind him. Turning around slowly, he found himself gazing at the figure of Isabella, who was very much awake._

**And now:**

**Chapter 14**

Before Sam could even think of blinking, he was flying into the nearest wall. The gun flew out of his hand and landed near Isabella's feet. She picked it up with a smirk, twirling it lightly in her hand. Sam struggled to break free from the wall, but an immense pressure kept him in place. Behind Isabella, Sam could see Dean being held captive against the other wall by the other witch. She seemed determined to make the brothers pay for the death of her friend.

"Boys," Isabella said smoothly, her raised hand hovering at Sam's chest level. He gasped as he felt a sudden twinge in his stomach; as though something was being twisted. Raising his eyes accusingly at Isabella, he could only watch as she clenched her fist tighter and the feeling intensified.

"It didn't have to be like this. If you had just let me do what I had to do instead of interfering…" she left the rest of the sentence hanging, obviously expecting them to make the connection.

"Sammy?" Sam heard Dean call out distantly as the pain in his stomach grew worse. It felt like Isabella had taken hold of his organs and was using them for stress relief. Dean had reached the same conclusion he had; they were going to kill him for their spell. "Let him go, Isabella!"

"Oh, no Dean. I don't want him dead just yet," Isabella said, and her grip lessened dramatically. Sam took a deep painless breath and his vision cleared slightly.

"Why don't you want us dead just yet?" He mumbled, trying to shake the pain away.

"_Cruentus volo defaeco orbis terrarium," _Isabella said slowly. "And I want the two of you to witness it."

"Blood will purify the world?" Sam translated confusedly.

"Very good Sam! But then again, you always were the intellectual one, weren't you?" Isabella clapped her hands together, pleased. A sudden groan echoed through the room.

"Bobby?" Dean called out to their slowly-awakening friend.

"What…. What the heck am I doing floating in midair?" Bobby asked surprised, his limbs beginning to flail as his brain began to catch up.

"Robert Singer. So you finally decided to join us." Isabella sneered. Bobby frowned at her.

"You haven't ganked her yet?" He asked Dean and Sam. The latter raised an eyebrow.

"What gave you that impression Bobby?" Dean asked dryly. Before he could answer, Bobby was dropped ungracefully onto the floor. Sam attempted to move forward to help Bobby up, momentarily forgetting he was being held against the wall.

"So, I would love to stay and chat," Isabella began, begin to move slowly around the room. "I really would. You boys are so much fun to manipulate. But I really must get on with my plan. I think it's waited long enough, don't you Dean?"

Both Sam and Bobby turned to look at Dean, who was still slumped against the wall. He was glaring at Isabella, hatred flickering on his face.

"You bitch," he whispered. Isabella smirked.

"How are you using blood to purify the world?" Sam interrupted any further conversation between Dean and the witch. He wasn't willing to let Dean have a chance to piss Isabella off.

"Why should I tell you?" Isabella asked distastefully.

"It's a cliché," Sam said whilst shrugging, feigning nonchalance. "The evil mastermind confesses their plan to destroy the world."

"And then the hero saves the day," Isabella concluded. She looked at him. "Why would I give you that chance?"

"So you're not confident that you can win then?" Sam asked innocently. Isabella glared at him warningly, but the damage had been done. The two remaining witches (the second having finally woken up) were both glancing fearfully at Isabella. Their confidence and willingness to undertake such a plan had revolved around the simple fact that it would work.

"I didn't say that," Isabella finally said. Sam smirked at her.

"Okay, fine." Isabella relented. "You want to know my plan? With the blood of six particular people and a spell from a _very_ special book, I can cleanse the world. I can rid it of destruction, of hatred and war. I can turn it into a place of peace and acceptance. Would you deny me that?"

"What about the world now? The people? What happens to them when you do your little spell?" Sam asked harshly. Isabella glanced over at Dean.

"Why don't you ask your brother?" Sam turned to Dean, who had his eyes closed.

"Dean? What…" he didn't bother finishing the question. Dean's eyes flickered open, gazing at Sam hazily.

"They die Sam. They all die, everyone… every single person. And all the children too…" his voice trailed off weakly as he closed his eyes again; trying to rid himself of the images Isabella had shown him. Sam looked at Isabella angrily.

"So that's your big plan? Just kill everyone and start all over again?" He said incredulously.

"Is that a problem?" Isabella asked innocently. Sam opened his mouth, prepared to rant about right and wrong, but before he could Isabella had turned away, pushing him further against the wall.

"Well, I think my ingenious plan has waited long enough, wouldn't you agree Dean?" Isabella questioned as she once again approached Dean.

"You can't do this Isabella," Dean said quietly. Isabella stopped in her tracks, face twisted into an expression of disbelief.

"Excuse me?" She said somewhat angrily. "Don't presume to tell me what I can or cannot do. I'm in charge here, I hold the power." Her voice grew louder as her rage increased. On the other side of the room, Sam and Bobby were exchanging glances as they silently formed a plan together. Or at least they hoped they both had the same plan. Head gestures weren't always an accurate means of communication.

"You're still human, Isabella." Dean said softly. "That young girl in the library crying over her boyfriend Roger? That's you. She still exists inside you."

"No, I've changed since then. Do you know what the first spell I used did?" Isabella said, her voice growing harsher, more emotional. "I turned _dear_ Roger into a toad."

"Very original," Dean said sarcastically. Isabella flushed.

"I've grown so much more since then. Expanded my goals, my powers. You have no idea just how much damage I can do."

"But I do," Dean replied. "You're planning on destroying the whole world. Think about that, Isabella. Everyone you care about. What happens to your friends here?" Dean continued, gesturing with had towards the remaining witches. They looked at Isabella expectantly.

When Isabella did not reply, one of the witches spoke up.

"Isabella? You promised us-"

"I know what I promised you," Isabella snarled. "But it doesn't work like that. The only one who survives this spell is me." The two witches looked at her disbelievingly.

"But you swore we would be safe!" The more hysterical one cried out. Isabella turned to her, eyes flashing.

"Well, I lied!" She screamed, and everyone around her could see she had lost control over her emotions. Her hair was nearly crackling with her power and frustration and her glare could kill.

The second witch, angry at the betrayal, threw a spell at Isabella. Isabella ducked, and returned her own. Her concentration became focused on her two subordinates. Sam, Dean and Bobby could feel the force holding them to the wall weakening until they were finally able to break free. Sam immediately ran to his brother's side while Bobby headed for the remaining weapons still strewn on the ground.

"Dean? You still with me?" Sam asked somewhat frantically as he helped a near unconscious Dean to his feet.

"Sammy?" Dean mumbled, only managing to stay on his feet with Sam's help. Sam gripped Dean tighter and looked to Bobby.

"Sam, here!" Bobby yelled as he threw a gun towards Sam. Sam caught it easily and handed it to Dean, who gripped it weakly, before drawing out the gun the fake Bobby had given him earlier. Scanning the room, Sam located the other gun he had held before, and moved to get it, momentarily forgetting he was the only thing keeping Dean upright.

"Woah," Dean said hazily as he nearly lost his balance and fell. Sam quickly grabbed him and made him lean against the wall.

"Dean, stay still okay? I have to go get my gun." Sam said firmly. Dean nodded weakly. Sam headed towards his gun, keeping a weary eye on the witches and Dean. At that moment, a spell directed at Isabella missed and instead was heading directly at Dean.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, and Dean looked up tiredly, not realizing the spell was about to hit him. Before Sam could react, Bobby appeared at Dean's side and forced him aside. The spell hit the wall where Dean had been and shattered the rock into pieces. Sam let out a breath of relief before dashing off to find his gun.

He was just on his way back to Bobby and Dean who were standing in a corner when one of the witches let out a scream of pain before falling to the ground, dead. The other witch cried out in rage but before she could retaliate, she too was dead. The only one still standing was Isabella, her head bowed low as she caught her breath. Sam and Bobby both raised their guns at Isabella, Dean leaning against the wall between them.

Just as Sam was about to pull the trigger, Isabella's hand flew up and Sam and Bobby found themselves being flung away from Dean, their weapons thrown from their hands. Sam's head slammed into the wall and he fell unconscious, his gun several meters away. Bobby was slightly luckier and managed to retain his conscious, however the force of the fall left his winded on the floor.

Standing in the middle of the room, Isabella no longer looked like a powerful witch. Instead, she looked like a young girl who had lost everything and had only one option left.

"It ends now," she said quietly, her voice wavering. She slowly raised her head and looked at Dean. "Everything ends now."

Lifting her hand to the roof, she began chanting in Latin, the words spilling over her lips. A sudden cracking could be heard as the floor before her parted and a silver cauldron rose from beneath. The smell of blood filled the air. Isabella then raised her other hand to Dean, who found himself being involuntarily drawn towards Isabella. Against his will, his feet moved slowly and steadily, although Dean himself felt ready to pass out from exhaustion.

Once Dean stood on the other side of the cauldron, Isabella drew a knife from within the folds of her cloak. The silver glinted but the top was covered in dry blood. _My blood_, Dean realized. Chanting, Isabella lifted the knife and held it over the cauldron before suddenly thrusting it forward into the air. Dean felt an immense pain in his stomach and doubled over as he felt the pain of the knife in his stomach. Looking up, he realized that although the knife was nowhere near him, his blood still covered the knife as it dripped into the cauldron.

Letting out a strangled moan, Dean fell to his knees as the pain overwhelmed him and the blood streamed out of him. Isabella grew more animated in her chanting as she watched the blood leave Dean and felt her own power grow. Her plan that she had put so much effort into was finally following through. She could practically feel the strength of her magic flowing through her body, she could sense that soon the world would collapse, she could feel-

Isabella gasped as a pain started in her chest and spread through her body. She turned slowly and saw Bobby standing behind her, gun still smoking slightly. Looking down, she watched the blood spill across her chest and stain her dress. She fell to her knees, feeling her body weaken, and slowly slumped to the side. The dagger, which had been hovering above the cauldron, fell in as her eyes closed for the last time and the breath left her body.

Bobby slowly lowered his gun before racing to Dean's side. Dean was curled up on his side, hands clutched tightly against his stomach.

"Dean?" Bobby called anxiously but there was no reply. Bobby looked up as a noise across the room caught his attention. Sam was just starting to wake up.

Shaking his head, Sam scanned the room until he noticed a worried Bobby kneeling next to the still form of his brother.

"Oh God, Dean!" Sam called as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He staggered towards Dean, and would have collapsed if it hadn't been for Bobby catching him.

"Easy Sam," Bobby said gently. Sam stared down in horror at his older brother.

"Bobby, that's too much blood. He's not going to make it!" Sam said, almost hysterical. His vision swam before him as his legs buckled.

"Sam, I think you have a concussion. You have to stay still, okay?" He heard Bobby say from far away.

"Yeah, I…." Sam's voice trailed off as he saw a figure at the entrance to the room. He blinked, wondering if it was just his imagination, but the figure did not go away. Instead, it approached him.

"Dr. Terrence?" Sam asked in wonderment. He heard a noise from behind the doctor as an unfamiliar voice echoed into the room.

"Joe, are they down there?"

"Mark?" Bobby suddenly called out.

"Bobby?" The voice replied and a head peered through the doorway.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Bobby said, surprised.

"It's a long story man," Mark replied.

Sam stopped listening to the various voices around him and focused on Dean, who was still lying on the ground. Dr. Terrence was beside him, applying pressure to the wound.

"Dean?" Sam asked softly, his head still spinning. There was no reply and Sam feared Dean had lost too much blood until-

"S'm?" A soft voice called. Sam looked down to see Dean's eyes focused on him. A smile graced his lips.

"Hey Dean. You're gonna be fine," Sam said before his vision turned black.

.: to be continued…


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **This is it! The final chapter. I've finally finished my first ever multi-chapter story. As a final note I'd like to give a massive thanks to everyone who reviewed or put this story on alert or on their favourites list. You guys are amazing. An even bigger thanks to my fabulous beta The Tribble Master without whom I would never have been able to finish this story. I'd love to hear any feedback from you wonderful readers, and I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

_Previously:_

"_Dean?" Sam asked softly, his head still spinning. There was no reply and Sam feared Dean had lost too much blood until-_

"_S'm?" A soft voice called. Sam looked down to see Dean's eyes focused on him. A smile graced his lips. _

"_Hey Dean. You're gonna be fine," Sam said before his vision turned black. _

**Chapter 15**

Sam could hear a faint beeping noise near his ear. He turned his head away from it, attempting to sink back into the comfortable black oblivion he had been previously situated in. However, the beeping noise only got louder and Sam found himself being once more drawn to consciousness.

As he awoke, his memories slowly began sorting themselves out. The chamber, the witches, Bobby, Dean-

_Dean_! Sam sat up, his eyes wide. The last time he had seen his brother, Dean had been curled up, stabbed and bleeding badly. Sam looked at the various monitors surrounding him before reaching to take the IV line out of his hand. Before he could pull it out, a hand covered his own, stopping him.

"You do that and I'm going to knock you out," Bobby said gruffly. He was standing next to Sam's bed, a relieved but threatening look in his eye.

"Bobby, how's Dean?" Sam asked frantically.

"Your brother's in a serious condition," a new voice said from the door. Dr Terrence entered the room, clipboard in hand.

"How bad?" Sam asked, worried.

"He lost a vast amount of blood. We gave him blood transfusions, but after only receiving them a few days ago, we're not too sure how his body will take to them. Other than that, he's both physically and mentally wounded. The witch's constant attacks on his mind caused his brain to shut down and place him in a coma. Being slammed into walls and such hasn't really helped either."

"But he'll make it, right? He'll wake up from the coma and be fine, right?" Sam's voice was growing more frantic.

"I'm afraid only time will tell, Sam," Dr Terrence said sympathetically.

"Can I see him now?" Sam asked desperately. The doctor smiled sympathetically.

"I don't know if it's such a good idea for you to be wandering around in your condition. You suffered a serious concussion, it was a bit touch and go for a while there." Sam looked at Dr Terrence pleadingly.

"Please?"

Dr Terrence blinked. He could have sworn for a moment that he had seen puppy dog eyes and a pout. Blinking again, he shook his head slightly.

"Well, I suppose you can go-" Sam started yanking the covers off himself "-under the condition that you go in a wheelchair."

"Oh, doc-" Sam started to complain, but Dr Terrence held up his hand.

"No complaints. Its wheelchair or nothing," he said firmly before going to check on his next patient, feeling oddly like he had scolded a young child.

Sam didn't want to admit it but he wasn't sure he could have made it to Dean's room without the wheelchair. His head felt like it had been attacked by a sledge hammer and his legs felt all weak and shaky. Nevertheless, he tried to act nonchalant as he was wheeled into Dean's room, but any expression he had on dropped as soon as he saw his brother.

"Oh Dean," Sam murmured as Bobby pushed the wheelchair closer to Dean's bed. His protective older brother was currently lying still under the white sheets of the hospital bed. Dean's own colour was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. He looked small nestled in the middle of the bed surrounded by a variety of machines, and Sam immediately felt his heart sink.

"Sam?" Bobby asked gently from behind Sam. Sam didn't answer, his eyes never leaving his brothers unmoving form.

"Sam, Dean's going to be fine," Bobby said comfortingly. Sam choked back an angry sob.

"How can you that, Bobby? How can you be so damn sure he'll make it this time? Or next time? What if he never wakes up? I just… I don't know how much more of this I can take," Sam said desperately, angrily brushing away the tears pooling in his eyes. Bobby gripped Sam's shoulder comfortingly.

"I know it's hard, Sam. But you can't go blaming him this time. I don't think he intended for all this to happen. But the next time he does some kamikaze act, you feel free to knock some sense into him, okay?" Bobby said kindly. Sam laughed softly. A silence fell on the room.

"Bobby?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

Bobby looked at Sam. "For what?"

"I saw the bullet hole in the witch. Dean was too injured and I was unconscious, so it had to be you that killed her. So thank you. Dean and I would both be dead if it wasn't for you helping us." As Sam finished, Bobby was quiet for a moment.

"You know you and Dean mean a lot to me, kid. You both give so much and receive so little in return." Sam made a move to interrupt but Bobby held up his hand. "I mean it. So if I'm able to help out in any way, I'll be there. You got that?"

Sam grinned at Bobby.

"Yes sir." The two shared an affectionate smile before turning back to Dean and preparing themselves for the long wait.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a week later when Dean finally woke from his coma. Over the past 7 days, Dr Terrence had watched as Sam and Bobby both showed growing signs of sleep deprivation and fatigue. Neither hunter had left Dean's side for more than an a few hours tops, and Sam had eventually convinced Dr Terrence to move his bed next to Dean's.

Currently, both Bobby and Sam were snoozing, Bobby in the seat next to Dean's bed and Sam on the other side. A slight movement stirred Sam from his sleep and he shot up as he saw Dean's finger twitch slightly.

"Dean?" Sam asked in wonderment. "Bobby, he moved!" Bobby rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"You sure Sam?"

"His finger it- there, it moved again!" Sam's mouth was fixed in a permanent grin, his eyes shining. It only widened when Dean made an incoherent sound.

"Dean? Hey Dean, can you open your eyes?" Sam asked gently, hovering above his brother. Dean let out a slight moan.

"Wh're… 'm I?" Dean slurred from beneath the oxygen mask, eyes still closed.

"Dean, its Bobby. You're back in the medical facility. Had us worried boy, you've been in a coma for a week." Dean twisted his head towards the direction of Bobby's voice.

"…S'mmy?" He asked, confused.

"I'm right here, Dean," Sam said, voice shaking. Dean turned his head towards Sam.

"Dean, can you open your eyes at all?" Sam asked. He could see Dean struggling to lift his eyelids and shake off his previous state. It took a while, but eventually Dean's eyelids parted, allowing him to see his surroundings for the first time. He took in the cream walls, the beeping machine next to him, the uncomfortable feeling in his mouth, and finally the two people most important to him.

"Hey Dean," Sam said softly, beaming down at him.

"You 'kay Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice muffled slightly. He lifted a heavy hand and attempted to pull the oxygen mask off, but was too weak.

"I'm fine Dean. Leave the oxygen mask in," Sam reprimanded gently.

"But I'm awake!" Dean complained.

"And took your time at it!" Bobby shot back. Dean sighed heavily.

"Ah Dean, you're awake! How do you feel?" Dr Terrence entered the room, followed by a man Sam vaguely recognised.

"Peachy," Dean said. He gestured at the oxygen mask. "Take it off?" Dr Terrence complied. Meanwhile Sam was looking at the other man.

"You were there… you came in at the end," he said, thinking back. The man nodded.

"This is Mark." Bobby introduced him. "He's a hunter too, but I haven't seen him for an age and a bit."

"What were you doing down there?" Dean asked tiredly, mouth finally free to talk normally.

"I was looking for Bobby. Been some demon activity around, bit different to normal, so I tracked Bobby down, and found Dr Terrence who told me he'd been here with two young men."

"How did you know where to find us? Or even to look for us?" Sam asked Dr Terrence, confused.

"Dean didn't come back for his check up. So I went to your motel and found it empty. There was a list of names on the floor, so I went and checked each house but they were all empty too. Got a little worried so I dragged Mark with me and started to search for you. We were just about to give up when we passed an abandoned warehouse and everything around us started to shake."

Mark picked up the story. "At first we thought it was an earthquake, but in seemed to be focused only on the warehouse. So we went in and there you were."

"It was good timing. I don't know how else we would have gotten Dean out of there," Bobby said. Sam turned to Dr Terrence and Mark.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. The two nodded. Dean suddenly left out a gasp as he recalled something.

"What?" Sam asked, worried. Was there still another witch on the loose? Some equally powerful sorcerer intent on destroying the world? Dean's eyes flickered to his, wide in horror.

"The Impala! Where is she?"

Sam just groaned.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was another week and a half later when Dean was finally allowed to leave the hospital, heavily bandaged and loaded with medication.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry for leaving you all by yourself," Dean said sorrowfully as he stroked the Impala's hood.

"I'll just leave you two alone, shall I?" Sam asked, with his eyebrows raised at the scene before him. Dean just huffed.

"Don't listen to him baby, he just doesn't understand," Dean crooned as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Damn right I don't understand," Sam muttered before standing in front of the driver's door. "Dean, out."

"What?"

"You're injured, drugged, and in no state to drive."

"I'm fine, Sam!" Dean protested. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean, if you don't let me drive then I'm taking you right back to that hospital and making you stay there for another week."

"And just how do you intend to get me back to the hospital?" Dean asked.

"Forgotten about me?" A gruff voice sounded from behind them. Dean turned around to see Bobby's truck next to them. He groaned.

"This is so not fair! You can't gang up on a wounded man!" Dean said with a pout.

"You just said you weren't injured!" Sam exclaimed, half amused half frustrated.

"Stop living in the past, Sam!"

Unfortunately for Dean, neither Sam not Bobby would give in, resulting in him slumped in the passenger seat, scowl playing on his lips. The scowl soon disappeared when he realised just how much pain he was still in, and he was almost thankful that he wasn't driving.

Not that he would admit it.

The two drove in silence, having parted with Bobby a few minutes previously. Sam slowed the car as they passed the warehouse and the two stared at it for a moment.

"Glad it's over?" Sam asked softly. Dean hummed in response.

It was a few blocks away when Dean spoke again.

"Hey Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"_Now_ do you see why I don't like witches?" Sam just chuckled. A silence filled the car. Dean looked at Sam pitifully. Sam sighed as he caved in.

"Fine."

Grinning at his victory, Dean switched on the radio and let the music blare out. Satisfied, he leaned back in his seat and enjoyed the rare occasion of relaxing while Sam drove.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was only once they had stopped for the night at a cheap motel and were reclining comfortably on the beds while the TV screen lit the room that Sam brought up the issue that had been playing on his mind.

"Hey Dean?"

"Hmm?" Dean asked, eyes closed as he lay back on his bed.

"We need to talk."

Dean's eyes flew open.

"You're not breaking up with me, are you Sam?" He asked in mock horror. Sam threw a pillow at him.

"I'm serious Dean." Dean raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, shoot." He said, acknowledging the serious tone of Sam's voice. Sam took a short breath.

"I… when you… at the hospital, I…" Sam stumbled over his words, unsure how to phrase them.

"Sam. Just take a deep breath," Dean coached gently. Sam took a deep breath and let it out.

"Okay. I realised when you were in hospital that… God, this is going to sound so sappy," Sam groaned. Dean just watched, eyes urging him on.

"It's just…. You need to take more care of yourself, Dean. The number of times you've been seriously hurt and close to death, I don't know how long you and I are going to last!"

Dean's eyes widened. "You_ and _I?"

"Look man, you always do your best to protect me. You've kept me safe since I was six months old. But you always forget about yourself, and that's going to be the death of you. And of me. I know this hunt wasn't your fault and you didn't intend to be kidnapped by witches, but I'm not only talking about this hunt. I just don't know how many more times I can sit beside your bed in a hospital trying to convince myself that you're going to be alright when I know you're going to get back up and do the same thing all over again!" Dean flinched at Sam's accusing tone.

"Sam… I'm sorry, I didn't realise that me getting injured affected you so much," Dean finally said. Sam sniffed.

"Yeah, well, it does." Sam said. Dean sighed.

"I promise I'll try and tone down the crazy acts, but I can't stop myself trying to protect you Sam." Dean said firmly. "It's my job to keep you safe, has been ever since we were kids, and I'm not about to stop now. I can't."

There was an unspoken conversation between them, when Sam eventually sighed and backed down.

"Fine. But no more crazy suicide hunts, okay?" Sam stressed. Dean laughed.

"Yes _Mother_."

Sam huffed and turned off the TV. The two got under their blankets, each quiet.

"Hey Dean?" Sam called from his bed.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad we made it out of there." Sam said. There was a pause.

"Yeah. Me too Sammy. Good night."

"Good night Dean."

The only noise that could be heard in the room was the soft breathing of the two brothers as they sunk into a deep peaceful slumber, lost in an abyss of dreams.


End file.
